Reconnect
by mayzee
Summary: Sequel to Chance Encounter set eleven years later as Jane and Lisbon meet again under complicated circumstances. What has happened to each of them in the intervening years? Can they help each other confront and solve the problems in their lives now? Can they find love with each other again? Rated T but may have some M rated scenes. Multichapter. Reviews are much appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is the sequel to Chance Encounter. It is set eleven years after that story finished so now Jane is 30, Lisbon 29. I was so surprised at the lovely reaction to that fic and the numerous reviewers who informed me they didn't normally like teenage J &L fics but enjoyed that one. **

**Hang on, what's that you say? You haven't read it? Okay, then I suggest you might want to do that before you begin this story as the set up of the characters and some of the conversations that take place in this one may not make a lot of sense as the story progresses otherwise. Although this first chapter may leave you feeling that way even if you have read it! All will be explained in time...Okay, then, here we go!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist, the amazing Bruno Heller does.**

* * *

Reconnect

Chapter 1 - Murder

Her body jerked immediately rousing her from sleep instantly, the shrill ringing of her cell phone in the middle of the night one noise she was more than used to by now. Still she kept her eyes closed as she fumbled around the nightstand, answered it as she cleared her throat. She croaked, "Lisbon," blinking her eyes open to see the name of her boss Virgil Minelli staring back at her. Swiftly she sat up against the headboard and turned on the light beside her, shaking any remnants of sleep from her body.

"Did I wake you by any chance, Lisbon?" Minelli asked, slight amusement in his tone.

"Well-"

"Good," he interjected. "If I'm not getting a night off then why should you, Agent."

She smiled at the rhetorical question. He was grouchy at the best of times but when a murder got in the way of his leisure time or his sleep then he was even tetchier.

"We have a case I'm guessing," she whispered, flinging the covers off her and gathering some clothes as she made her way to the hotel room bathroom to get dressed.

"Well I'm pleased when I gave you your own team at the CBI last month I didn't make the wrong call, Teresa. Fine deductive powers indeed." There was more than a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

She put the phone on speaker and began to get dressed. "Well you taught me everything I know, Virgil," she came back with quickly with a smile.

"Ha ha, Agent, very funny. All right, enough of that." More serious, "Yes, we caught one. Your team should almost be there by now, called them a few hours ago to make their way from Sacramento. You're still in L.A., correct?"

"Yeah. You should have called me sooner-"

"Despite what you might think you deserve an occasional night off like everyone else, you've been working like a dog lately, Teresa. Besides, murder is in Malibu so we'll probably be there before they are. Unless Rigby's driving."

She frowned as she pulled on her blouse. " _You're_ coming to the crime scene? You only do that if...hang on...this must be pretty high profile. Who got killed?"

A loud sigh greeted her at the other end. "You're staying at the Courtyard Hotel near the conference centre, yes?"

"Yeah-"

"I'll pick you up in twenty minutes. I'll explain then."

* * *

After getting ready she opened the bathroom door and the light on the nightstand opposite her switched on. "Teresa?" the dark haired bare-chested man lying in bed mumbled as he rubbed his eyes.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" she whispered as she put on her gun and badge.

He shook his head from side to side as he stifled a yawn then glanced at his watch beside him before rolling his eyes. "You got called out," he said with an exasperated sigh.

She came and sat on the bed beside him, kissed him softly. "Yeah, sorry, Ryan-"

"Damn it, Teresa. I thought you were supposed to have the night off for once. It's the first one we've spent together in-"

"I know. I'm sorry," she nodded. "But we did spend it together. Just have to cut it short, that's all."

"Hmm. Well half a night with you after you've attended a forensics conference all day and are exhausted by the time I get here is hardly what I'd call a romantic getaway, honey."

She laughed softly. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"That's what you said when you were too tired last night. In fact you told me that in the morning you'd-"

She rolled her eyes. "It must be an important one. Minelli called me himself. He's had to leave his golf retreat too." She kissed him again. "And I _will_ make it up to you."

He pinned a lock of her shoulder length bobbed hair behind her ear. Seriously, "It's not just about the sex, Teresa. You know that. But...well after what happened, we've had trouble reconnecting-"

"Jeez, Ryan. I have to get to a murder, I don't have time to have this conversation right now," she said with irritation as she raised herself from the bed and put her leather jacket on.

"So what else is new," he mumbled looking away.

She troubled her bottom lip and sat back down beside him again. Quietly, "Look, I know things haven't been good between us since...but we'll work things out, okay? Just give me some more time."

He hugged her and kissed her hair. "I do love you. I just want things to get back to how they were, that's all."

She patted his back before releasing him. "I know you do. I do too. We'll get there," she nodded.

"I'm sorry for pressuring you-"

"It's fine," she said as she got off the bed. "Look, I don't know how long I'll be so you'd be better flying back to Sacramento in the morning by yourself; I'll get a ride back with the team."

Her boyfriend Ryan Hastings turned off the light and huddled back under the covers. "Okay," he yawned. "Be safe. Call me in the morning if you get a chance."

* * *

She was waiting at the entrance of the Hotel as Minelli pulled up in his silver Ford Taurus. She jumped in immediately, handing him a coffee and doughnut from the all night coffee shop next door and fastened her seatbelt, settling her coffee between her legs and breaking off a piece of bear claw.

Minelli was addicted to the roasted bean as much as she was and she knew it was a sure fire way of making him a little more amenable for their drive to Malibu. He sipped his drink with his eyes closed for a moment. "You know the way to a man's heart, Teresa," he smiled as he put his drink into the cup holder at his side, starting up the engine again.

She puffed out a breath, taking a mouthful of her own. "If only," she murmured, thinking back to her pissed off boyfriend ten floors up.

Minelli narrowed his eyes at her for a moment. "Everything okay between you and Ryan?"

"Yeah," she said quickly. "We're fine. So, what's the case?"

He smiled at her rather obvious avoidance of discussing her private life. "I didn't want to tell you on the phone," he said, looking sideways at her for a reaction to his next words. "Looks like a Red John."

She twirled in her seat immediately, nearly landing her legs with a cupful of coffee. Her heart rate increased at the sound of the name though she tried to keep her voice calm. "Okay. What do you know so far?"

Minelli sighed, his voice a monotone as he described yet another murder victim as he had done for over thirty years now, "Name is Melissa Jane, aged twenty eight. Husband discovered the body a few hours ago. Called it in."

"Jane?" Lisbon clarified, her heart racing for an entirely different reason.

"Yeah," he sighed, his eyes on the road. "She was married to...get this-"

"Patrick Jane," Lisbon finished for him, her mouth hanging open.

Minelli glanced at her then glanced again as he noticed her shocked expression. "Yes. You've heard of him? I believe he does some guest spots as some sort of psychic on TV. Don't tell me you watch that kind of stuff."

She shook her head and took a large sip of coffee in an attempt to calm herself, as paradoxical as that was. "Um...no...Didn't know he'd branched into TV but...well yeah, I've heard of him."

Minelli frowned at her thoroughly perturbed demeanour. "Teresa, no offence but it doesn't sound or look like you've just heard of him-"

"I know him," she offered with a sigh. "What I mean is I knew him. Years ago."

Her boss cleared his throat as he watched her reaction in the front mirror, his face growing red by his next question. "Um...when you saw you _knew_ him..."

She looked out of the side window, almost as embarrassed as her boss at the subject they were discussing. "Yeah, we had a...thing I guess you could call it. Well fling more than a...thing. When I lived in Chicago, just before I went to College." She turned back to him, afraid he'd take her off the case due to her personal history with the husband of a victim. "I haven't seen him since then, Virgil. And it lasted less than a week. He...he probably won't even remember me." She knew that was a lie in most probability but she was going to say whatever she had to to make sure she stayed on a Red John case.

He nodded, clearing his throat again. "Will you be able to be unbiased if I allow you to work this case, Lisbon?"

"Of course, boss. Besides, if it's Red John then-"

"We don't know that for certain yet. I need to know you'll be able to handle this situation in a professional manner when you speak to him, Lisbon."

"Like I said, boss. He'll probably not even remember me. It won't be a problem, I assure you."

"Make sure it isn't," her boss told her.

* * *

As they drove up to the gated property in Malibu they noticed a few reporters had already sniffed out the story as daylight approached. Minelli flashed his badge to the uniformed officers and drove through the gate. "Damn bloodhounds," he muttered under his breath.

Lisbon's eyes were fixed on the architecturally designed white property ahead that stood behind manicured shrubs and red brick driveway. It appeared Patrick Jane had got his fortune after all. Her stomach somersaulted at the thought of seeing him after all these years despite the circumstances. "This is why you're here," she said to Minelli, to get her mind off those sea green eyes she'd fallen for a decade ago. "Press."

"Yeah," Minelli tutted as they exited the car. "Seems a minor celebrity coupled with Red John will likely have the front page," he said shaking his head. He nodded to a group of people just behind her that were approaching. "Rigsby must have driven, go talk to your team. Confirm if it's Red John and come and find me. I'll head them off at the pass until then."

"What about Pat-, Mr Jane, you want me to talk to him or-"

"If you can be objective, talk to him. If not, have Cho do it."

"Okay, boss."

Cho led her into the house as forensic techs and uniformed officers milled about. As she got to the large kitchen diner area she saw his back on the deck behind opened patio doors as he sat on a bench and stared at the sky in front of him, his still blond curls illuminated by the first rays of dawn. She stopped walking suddenly, her heart pounding in her chest, surprising herself with the depth of emotion she felt at the sight after all these years. Cho frowned at her, "Boss, body's upstairs."

"Right," she said, catching a breath. "Right. Let's go," she said, establishing her professional persona again.

"So, what have we got?" she asked him as they ascended the stairs.

"Jane said he found his wife shortly after one am this morning after driving back from a television appearance in L.A. Said there was no sign of an intruder when he got here. Said he tried to resuscitate but she was already gone."

"Time of death?"

"Coroner puts it at between eleven and one. We were waiting for you before the body's removed."

"Forensics?"

"Still combing. Nothing so far. But Jane trying to resuscitate her, if that's what he really was doing, means there's little chance of usable trace on the victim."

"Well if it's Red John there's likely to be no trace anyway." She paused as his words sunk in. "What do you mean, _if_ that's what he was doing?" She noticed her tone was more than a little abrupt and bit her lip. _Objectivity, right._ She softened it accordingly, made it more curious than defensive. "What are you getting at, Cho?"

"Have a look," he said, pointing to a room beside them. Rigsby was inside having a peep around and nodded to her. "Hey, boss."

"Hey, Rigs," she frowned as she looked around the room. It was decorated in taupe tones, a dark wooden bed freshly made up with light blue bedcovers and dark bedroom furniture adorning it. It was very clean with no personal items save for a bottle of expensive cologne on the dresser and a comb. She didn't have to open the closets to know this was a man's room. She came out of the room and glanced down the corridor where a hive of activity was ongoing. "Separate bedrooms," she said, mostly to herself as her frown deepened.

"Yeah, boss," Rigsby nodded. He opened the closets anyway, a row of designer suits and packets of unopened shirts and ties fastidiously displayed. Cho opened a drawer and twenty watches, four of which she noticed were Rolex's greeted her.

"Maybe he snores," Rigsby offered. She bit her tongue to tell him he did not. Or at least didn't use to.

As she approached what she supposed was Melissa Jane's bedroom she heard Brett Partridge's voice in there and rolled her eyes. Why did the creepiest guy on the planet have to be working this one? She sighed as she heard him continue speaking to the photographer in the room.

"My first Red John," he said cheerfully as he looked up at the face on the wall. "I'm stoked to get one at last." The ghoul was practically salivating.

Her gaze went to the smiley face on the wall opposite her as she walked through the door and she bit her bottom lip. "Damn," she said under her breath. Louder, "Mr Partridge, do you mind showing this poor woman some respect."

He jumped at her words and turned around. "Agent Lis-bon," he smiled, "Always a pleasure."

"It's Lisbon," she stated plainly, a fact he already knew all too well. "Give me a minute," she added quietly.

"We're still-"

"I don't care. Leave."

She tilted her head to him, challenging him to respond.

Stuttering, "I...I need to come back soon, with it being Red John brass will want the works-"

"It's not," she said wearily, the early morning and the pain in the ass opposite her trying her patience.

At that moment the newest member of her team, Grace Van Pelt, wandered into the room. Partridge stared at Lisbon, gaining some confidence. "It's not Red John? Oh, because you say so, is that it?" he asked despairingly.

"No," she sighed. "Because..." She narrowed her eyes at Van Pelt, decided to test the rookie with a test she knew she should pass or she wasn't the agent she recruited. "Why isn't it Red John, Van Pelt? Tell Mr. Partridge here."

"Um..." Van Pelt, replied, caught on the hop.

"Have a look around," Lisbon said calmly. "You've studied the case files, Grace. You know this. Why isn't it him?"

The redhead's eyes flicked around the room then settled on the face on the wall. Lisbon smiled as they did so. "Because the face is on the wrong wall," Van Pelt said with clear conviction to Partridge with a smirk. "Red John makes certain he makes his mark where whoever finds the body sees the mark first but in this case the face is behind the door so when you open the door you see the body first instead."

"Precisely," Lisbon said, some pride in her tone at her team member.

"Hmm," Partridge snorted as he made his way out of the room after a moment. Both women nodded to each other silently in victory. "He gives me the creeps," Van Pelt said as Lisbon began to examine the body.

"Yeah, me too," she admitted. The woman lying on the bed was certainly beautiful. Or had been. Long blonde hair and long tanned legs met Lisbon in a photo beside the bed. Beside it the same woman lay with matted hair, knife marks puncturing her abdomen and throat. "I'm sorry," Lisbon whispered with absolute sincerity. "I'm going to find who did this to you," she added.

After a deep sigh she turned to Van Pelt who was hovering at the doorway. "It's definitely not him," Lisbon said in a louder voice. "Knife marks are a poor imitation. Rushed."

"Rigsby said she and her husband had separate bedrooms," Van Pelt said as she glanced around the room, decorated in pinks and floral tones. "Looks like they definitely had their own space."

"Yeah, looks like it," Lisbon agreed. "Anything stolen?"

"Don't know yet. She had a lot of jewellery by the look of it, hard to tell if anything's been taken."

Lisbon turned back to the woman on the bed for a second to check something before she spoke again. "Get photographs of all the jewellery you can find in the house." She paused, swallowed before she said the next words. "Has the husband been questioned yet?"

Van Pelt shook her head. "Not really. At least not by us. After giving his statement to the uniformed officers he's said next to nothing. I tried when I got here but-"

"It's okay, Grace," Lisbon said, "I'll take care of it." As she was brushing past her she asked, "Has he asked for a lawyer?"

Van Pelt shook her head. "No, not that I know of."

Lisbon bit the inside of her cheek and nodded. "Okay. Bring me those photographs when you get them, I'll be downstairs. After that head back to Headquarters and start trawling through her phone records. Look for anyone with a history of violence and find out who the last person to speak to her was. Talk to them, find out what her mood was, if she was frightened, upset, whatever."

"Sure, boss. Speaking of that her cell phone hasn't been recovered. Strange, huh?"

"Yeah, that is interesting. Track the GPS, find out where it is."

"Will do. There was an address book found too," Van Pelt commented. "I'll go through that as well."

"Good, yeah, thanks Van Pelt."

* * *

After confirming to Minelli the killer definitely wasn't Red John on this occasion she took a deep breath as she was a few steps away from Patrick Jane. He still sat in exactly the same position he was in when she arrived but his shoulders were now slumped forward in the white shirt he wore. He seemed oblivious to everything going on around him as people ducked in and out from the decking to take or receive phone calls. She nodded to a uniformed officer nearby whose job it seemed was to keep an eye on him.

She asked him quietly, "Has he said anything?"

"Hasn't spoken a word these past two hours, ma'am. Just a nod or shake of the head when he's been asked anything."

"He hasn't asked to call anyone, friend or..."

"No one, Agent Lisbon."

"Okay, Officer..." she glanced at his name tag, "Young." A beat later, "Can you make a cup of tea and bring it out? Make it sweet."

He frowned at her immediately.

"Looks like he's still in shock. You do know how to make hot tea, yes?"

"Course."

"Thank you," she nodded as she took a couple of steps away from him and stood at the patio doors.

She could make out his side profile now as he stared at a spot in the distance. She saw the magnificent ocean view he was looking at now she was nearer. Closer up, his face was a little more weathered than she remembered with some fine lines along his forehead as he frowned, his frame a little broader in the shoulders, hair a darker colour of blond but still in curls, his skin more bronzed from the sun. Her heart picked up at the vision before her. He was still as beautiful as she recalled even without the dazzling smile that was almost a permanent feature when she remembered him. Now she was on the verge of talking to him she didn't know how to begin, lapsing into the awkward and inexperienced teenager she was when she had first met him. Did she call him Patrick? Mr Jane? Panic rose in her for a moment. Maybe he wouldn't remember her after all. She forced herself to take the two steps forward required. A chair sat near the bench and she pulled it over so she sat beside him. He didn't flinch, didn't make any kind of action or reaction that he was aware of her sudden presence at his side.

"Um...Mr...Patrick?" she said quietly.

She noticed a blink of his eyes, his frown deepening as he turned his head towards her. Sea green eyes met her and she took an intake of breath at their intensity, still the blue green colour she recalled. He said nothing but stared at her as his frown deepened, uncomprehending the sight in front of him.

She cleared her dry throat. "Patrick...do you remem-"

"Teresa?" he replied through a long breath.

She smiled softly, nodded. "Hey."

He shook his head, looked at his hands that were shaking as his chest began to rise and fall rapidly. Maybe she should have let Cho take the lead after all. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. He'd come home to one shock and now she'd inflicted another one on him. "This isn't real," he muttered to his knees that were trembling. "This isn't real." He kept repeating the words over and over.

Just then Officer Young appeared with the tea, frowning when he saw the man in front of him. "Shall I get the EMTs, Agent?" he asked her.

"No," Lisbon said, glancing at Jane as she took the cup from him. "Not yet at least."

"Patrick," she tried again. "It is real. It's me...I'm a-"

"Cop," he said as he suddenly stared back at her before lapsing into silence again. This time his eyes stayed trained on her face.

She nodded, "Yeah, that's right." She smiled warmly at him again. "Just like I always wanted to be." She pushed the tea under his nose when she noticed his breathing had relaxed. "Drink this. You're in shock."

He shook his head. "I...I don't drink tea. Just keep it for readings."

"It'll help," she said softly. "Please."

He stared at the cup and then back to her face. "It's really you, Teresa?" he whispered.

She shrugged, a little misty eyed herself, "Yeah. Now drink," she ordered.

He took the cup from her hands and as their fingers touched she blushed immediately as his shook as he held it. He held her gaze as he took a first sip, grimacing slightly at the sweetness.

After a few more sips she noticed him relax his shoulders slightly but his eyes were still penetrating her face as he drank.

"Thank you," he said as he passed the cup back to her when he'd finished. He cleared his throat. "You're...you're working on my wife's murder?" he said in more of a controlled manner.

"I am," she said. "Actually I work for the CBI, Patrick-"

"I did it," he interrupted. He took a deep breath and fixed her with a stern gaze. "I killed my wife, Teresa."

* * *

 **A/N: So there is the first chapter (couldn't resist a cliffie!), it was really just setting the scene for the events that will unfold but hope you enjoyed it in any case. There's a long way to go and much to be explained...Would love to know if you enjoyed it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm so pleased so many of you have decided to jump on another rollercoaster of a ride with me! To answer a couple of the more frequently asked questions upfront - there is a reason Jane's wife is named Melissa and not Angela. And a reason why Charlotte is not in this story. All will be explained. And people who have read my AU story Deception may notice a character I'm bringing back briefly in this chapter (don't worry, you don't need to read another story to enjoy this one, it's just fyi as I needed a sleazy agent for Jane).**

* * *

Chapter 2 - Reluctance

"Wh-at did you say?" Lisbon stammered in disbelief, pulling back from Jane.

At that moment a short man in his mid fifties with thinning hair raced towards them both, his brow sweaty. "Paddy, not another word until your lawyer shows up." He looked Lisbon up and down with disdain but his gaze lingered on her breasts a second longer than was decent. "You're Agent Lisbon, I take it. The Agent in charge of Melissa's murder?"

Lisbon stood up and found herself directly facing the diminutive man opposite her. "I am. And who are you?"

"Eddie Larson, Mr Jane's agent." He held out a sweaty palm that she ignored so he wiped it on his suit jacket. "Mr Jane will be answering no further questions-"

"Excuse me, are you a lawyer?"

He stammered. "Well...well no-"

"Then you have no right to interfere with a police investigation-"

"But the man's just lost his wife! He's in no state of mind-"

"Oh, so you're a doctor now are you?"

More beads of sweat appeared on Larson's brow as he stuttered, "Um...well-"

"Leave us, Eddie," Jane finally said sharply, cutting in. He looked up at the man from his seated position. "How did you even find out about what happened to Melissa?"

"The press, Paddy, how else? Been clamouring at me for a statement from you this past hour. You should have called me right away."

Jane rolled his eyes, getting up from the bench and stretched his shoulders. "Yeah, well I had more pressing matters on my mind than what some reporters are going to print in their morning editions, Eddie," he sighed as he gazed at the ocean.

"You heard him," Lisbon said, addressing Larson. "So unless you want to be arrested for impeding an ongoing investigation-"

The man looked to Jane for support but Jane continued to look at the waves with his back to him. He harrumphed at Lisbon, "Fine, I'll leave but I'd appreciate it if you would show this man some respect at this time, Agent. If I've found you've...browbeaten him into making some kind of statement before his lawyer-"

"Jesus, Eddie, get the hell out of here!" Jane yelled as he turned around, making his agent and Lisbon step back in shock at the sudden outburst. Jane ran a hand through his hair and took a breath. "Get out," he said to Larson, his tone just as menacing but quiet.

As Larson shuffled off like the snake he was Jane breathed out and focused on Lisbon as they stood looking at each other. Now he was over the initial shock of seeing her again he raked his eyes over her form scrutinising her with a blank expression on his face before he nodded and rested his eyes back on her face. "I apologise for him, Teresa. He's a good agent but a horrible human being."

"Well I won't argue with the second comment," she replied.

A glimmer of a small smile broke out on his lips for a split second before he said quietly, "Okay. Where were we?"

She could see he was still unsettled and fractured, his emotions pulling him in different directions all at once. And though he had just confessed to murdering his wife she couldn't believe it possible that the same boy she knew was capable of such an act of those horrendous proportions. "You just told me you killed your wife," she frowned. She licked her lips nervously, "Look as much as a creep that guy is maybe he had a point, Patrick. Before you say anything else you should call a lawyer."

"A lawyer?" he frowned. "Why would I need one?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, more worried about his state of mind. "Patrick, you've just told me you murdered your wife. What makes you think you wouldn't need a lawyer?"

He blinked rapidly for a second as he furrowed his brow. "I didn't kill her myself. Is that what you thought?"

She rolled her eyes and puffed out a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. "What else was I supposed to think?!"

"Red John murdered her. I saw the face on the wall. That's...that's his signature, isn't it?"

Minelli's words came back to her that she was to be objective. She tried to gauge him like she would any other murder suspect or bereaved spouse. There was no point telling him anything case related unless she had to. "Then why would you say you did it?"

He nodded in understanding as he gestured for her to sit down again. He plopped himself back on the bench after she had and ran a hand down his face. "Because I talked about him. I was asked about him at a talk show I was invited to and I talked about him there." He shrugged and shook his head. "I've never even researched him, had no need to but...well the subject came up about serial killers and...he was mentioned." He chanced a sideways glance at her. "And big mouth that I am I spouted on like I knew what he was all about to get the camera on me." He buried his face in his hands as his voice broke. "So...so...he must have seen the show...and decided to come here and..." He fought to take a breath and his legs began to shake as his voice trailed off.

She sat still for a moment, unsure of what to do. He was either the finest actor she'd ever seen or he was completely innocent. Well not completely innocent in mouthing off about a serial killer but he hadn't got his wife killed because of it. She placed a fingertip on his knee gently and swallowed, "Patrick," she said softly. "Look at me."

He shook his head and pulled away from her touch as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. He took a fortifying breath before he finally turned to her with red rimmed eyes.

"He didn't kill her," she stated, shaking her head. "This wasn't Red John."

After a moment of silence his expression questioned her. "But...but the face?"

"I can't disclose right now why he didn't do it but I am one hundred per cent certain that he did not kill your wife."

As he took in her words he almost collapsed like a deck of cards before her eyes as his body slumped against the bench. "You're positive?" he asked as he stared out to sea again.

"Yes," she confirmed. "So now we have to find out who did kill her."

He nodded, obviously deep in thought. At that moment Van Pelt sidled up beside them and handed some photographs to Lisbon. "Boss, here are the prints you wanted."

"Thanks, Van Pelt, how are the techs doing?"

"Pretty much done." She glanced at Jane who appeared unaware of the conversation going on beside him. Quietly, "Shall we pack everything up and take it back to the CBI?"

"Yeah, Grace. Let Minelli know we're done here."

She tilted her head to watch Van Pelt retreat. When she turned back Jane was staring at her and she jerked a little at the intensity of his expression. "Where are you based? Sacramento?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's right." Authoritatively, "Can you have a look at these, see if anything's missing?"

"You think robbery was the motive?" he replied as he took hold of the photographs.

She shrugged, "Unlikely but I'd like to rule it out."

He shuffled through the photographs. "I didn't take much notice of what Melissa bought jewellery wise...not sure what help I'll be here. I can give you the name of our insurance broker though, anything of worth I'm sure she had it valued."

Lisbon sighed, "Okay." She paused, "She wasn't wearing her wedding ring when she was found. That's...unusual."

He stilled his hands on the photographs for a split second then continued to go through them. Scrutinising them, "Uh...sometimes...after a bath or something she'd moisturise her hands then just go to bed without putting it back on." He pulled out a photograph of what looked like at least a six carat diamond ring with a gold band from those he was searching through. "This is her wedding ring. Looks like it was in her jewellery box from the photograph taken."

Lisbon nodded, widened her eyes. "Wow...that's some rock," she couldn't help admit.

Jane sighed wearily as he placed the photographs beside him. "Yeah," he confirmed, "She had...expensive tastes."

"From what I've seen of your own watch collection you both have."

He tilted his head to look at her. "You're disappointed in how I turned out," he stated.

She looked down at her lap then off to the side to hide her blush at the veiled insult she'd just made to a man who just lost his wife. There was no point kicking him when he was down already. She kept her tone formal. "I apologise, it's none of my business how you decided to live your life. I misspoke."

"You were just being honest. No harm done. It's part of what I liked most about you. Your...lack of guile." His voice was devoid of emotion but sincere.

She took a breath as the conversation was turning too personal for her liking. "Look, I know this is a lot to take in and I'm truly sorry for your loss, Patrick but-"

"You need to speak to me about any enemies Melissa may have made. If I can think of anyone who would want to see her..." his voice trailed off as he emitted a loud sigh as he looked away.

"Yes. Does anyone come to mind? Sometimes the first name you think of is the person responsible."

He shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek. He turned towards her and breathed out, more composed. "No, I can't think of anyone, Teresa."

She nodded then frowned. She was a cop long enough to know when someone was keeping something from her and her gut instinct kicked in that Patrick Jane was withholding the entire truth. "Are you sure?"

He blinked twice in succession then nodded. "Quite sure. She is...was...popular. I can't imagine anyone wanting to harm her."

She took out a notepad and pen to give her hands something to do and to feel more like a CBI Agent than some kind of ex girlfriend to the man in front of her, to stop her mind reminiscing about the eyes focused on her. She cleared her throat, "You were at a television appearance last night in L.A. What time did you leave?"

"The studios? Ah...about eleven, something like that, I think."

"But you only arrived here after one am? That drive takes under an hour."

He pursed his lips slightly and paused. "I stopped off...for something to eat."

A shiver ran up her spine as her inbuilt lie detector went off again. "Where?" she asked, not bothering to hide her suspicion.

"Teresa, I didn't do this. You know me-"

She licked her lips nervously. "Where did you stop off?"

"Can't recall the name. Some fast food joint."

"I suggest you try harder to remember the name of it," she said brusquely. She continued, "Your relationship with your wife. How would you categorise it?"

He shrugged. "Categorise it? It had its challenges, ups and downs." He glanced at her bare left hand ring finger. "You never took the plunge yourself, I see." He narrowed his eyes at her, studying her facial response. "Not yet at least."

Refusing to allow him to engage in a conversation about her own love life she asked, "More downs than ups lately?"

"Suppose you could say that."

She softened her tone. "Patrick, I'm not going to lie. This looks bad for you. You have a flimsy alibi and obvious problems in your marriage. And your wife's blood on the clothes you were wearing when you found her. Now...unless you can actually help to push us in a different direction we'll be forced to take you seriously as a suspect."

He nodded. "I understand. You do what you have to do, Teresa."

She rolled her eyes then frowned at him, about to try to get him to open up to her again but he raised his head as he noticed someone approach behind her. "I believe your boss wants a word."

She turned around and Minelli immediately gesticulated with a finger for her to come talk to him inside. As she got off the chair she asked Jane, "How did you know he was my boss? You haven't met him."

She caught a glimpse of the arrogant smile she remembered below his sorrowful eyes. "Well, you're in charge of this investigation but his age, stance and how the other officers react to him, including yourself as you jumped immediately off your seat there, shows he's a little higher in the pecking order. He has an air of authority about him. Plus he looks annoyed which probably means he's been dealing with the press, a job for a higher official than your good self."

She smiled softly at him despite his obvious stubbornness and reticence. "Still a right know it all, huh?"

His smile grew a little and he looked down, almost shyly, before looking back at her again. "I'm relieved you're not wholly dissatisfied in what I became. That you recognise and still like a part of the boy you knew back then," he replied quietly.

She cleared her throat as his eyes penetrated hers and brought a blush to her cheek. As she went to turn on her heels she turned back to him again, trying to clear the charged atmosphere between them with an attempt at humour. "Well just so you know you're not that clever, my boss Minelli always looks annoyed."

She didn't wait to hear his response before she went to talk to her boss but she had an inkling there was a small smile on his lips.

* * *

"So, what's he said?" Minelli asked, straight to the point.

"Well...nothing really, just yet. He said he can't think of anyone who'd want her dead."

Minelli raised an eyebrow. "Did he mention if that included himself?"

"I admit it doesn't look good for him but and I don't know what you've heard yet but he thought Red John had done this. Apparently-"

"He was on TV shooting his mouth off about him. Yes, I know."

"How?"

"Reporter asked me about it, showed me the footage." He looked over at Jane with something close to contempt. "He was damn lucky the bastard never killed him for it. Or his wife." He let go of a breath, his right hand tapping his leg, itching for a cigarette. "You saw enough upstairs to get an idea of his relationship with his wife. It's obvious they were not exactly seeing eye to eye lately-"

"Just because they kept separate bedrooms doesn't mean-"

He raised his voice a notch. "Let me finish. You know these cases, Teresa. We look at the spouse first. Especially when there appears to be no signs of breaking and entering. Now, from what I understand about Mr Jane in the brief time I've looked into him is that he's a clever son of a bitch. Perhaps they had an argument when he got home, he lost it, killed her. Then he remembered the interview he'd done and drew the face on the wall to make it look like Red John."

As she put a hand up to interrupt he shook his head and continued, "That's if it wasn't premeditated. We'll know more when we get the results from the coroner. See which knife wounds were inflicted pre and post mortem. Give us a better idea if it was planned or not. That's a whole other ballgame."

He stopped talking and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Finished? My turn now?"

"Be my guest," he said with a wave of the hand.

"If he did do it then where's the knife? It hasn't been recovered."

"Not yet but he has a whole ocean out there to get rid of it, Lisbon. Has his alibi been corroborated yet?"

She shook her head. "No...not yet. Rigsby's going to call them in the morning." She glanced at the daylight streaming in the windows. "I mean this morning." She didn't mention the time he hadn't accounted for at this stage, deciding to question him about it later, hoping he'd decide to be more co-operative once she'd investigated the timings he had admitted to first.

"Well let's see where that leads us." Her boss paused a moment, softened his tone when he saw her worried expression. "Look, Teresa, just because you knew him years ago doesn't mean you know him now. People change for all sorts of reasons."

She nodded, swallowed then shook her head. Emphatically, "That's true but he didn't kill her, Virgil. I admit..." She bit her lip then sighed, decided to confess her gut feelings so far to her boss. "I'll admit I get the feeling he's not being entirely truthful, that he's holding something back but...I _know_ he's not capable of doing something like this."

* * *

When she'd finished rounding up her team and the techs had completed their work she found him in the kitchen making a cup of tea. He seemed much calmer and more in control of himself as he dipped a teabag in water he'd just boiled. "I thought you didn't drink tea," she said, hovering around the island counter as he stood with his back to her.

He turned around and shrugged. "I think you've given me a taste for it. No sugar though." He paused as he took a sip as he looked over the rim of his cup at her. "You're done here, I take it," he said as his hand swept around the now empty room.

"Yes. We're bringing all evidence back to Sacramento. We'll start going through your wife's contacts, emails, etcetera, and look for someone with a motive. Coroner will be performing an autopsy later today also."

Jane nodded. "Someone other than me, you mean. From what I saw of your boss he has me in his sights for it."

"We would like to question you further back at the CBI. Sooner rather than later. Unless...unless there is something you'd like to tell me now though that might help-"

"I'll come see you there tomorrow if that's convenient. I...I need some time to take this in, I hope you understand."

She hoped giving him time would bring him round to the idea of co operating in finding his wife's killer. At the moment he seemed only too happy for his neck to be in the noose. "Fine. But-"

"Don't leave town?" he said with a slight smirk.

* * *

The ride back to Sacramento she contemplated the idea that he could be a murderer. She had to acknowledge if it were anyone else but him she would be entertaining the same idea as her boss. Her cell phone rang and she yawned as she answered it, the mid night callout and long drive back making her weary. She saw her boyfriend's name on the screen and answered it. "Hey, Ryan."

"Teresa? Why didn't you...I heard on the news that Red John-"

"It wasn't him. Don't believe everything you hear on the morning news," she replied with a sigh. "You're back home already?"

"Yeah, couldn't sleep after you left so got the earliest flight back," he said with a puff of relief. "But you were at that scene I take it? That was the callout?"

"Yep."

"But you suspected it was him when you got there, you must have. Are you okay-"

"I'm fine, Ryan," she snapped, earning her a brief glance from Van Pelt who was driving as Rigsby slept in the backseat and Cho read a book. She blushed then said quietly, "I'm fine, okay. Stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself. Even if it had been him."

She heard a long sigh on the other end. "I know you can. But well it'd be nice if you allowed me to take care of you once in a while too, Teresa. It's part of my job description, you know."

She smiled as her heart warmed at the man she hadn't exactly been treating well lately. "I have to go. I'll see you tonight," she said softly with genuineness.

"I'll cook us something nice."

"Sounds good, thanks."

When she hung up she stared out the side window, her mind back on Patrick Jane less than a second later.

* * *

 **A/N: So...still many questions. Why is Jane being so evasive? Why was his relationship with his wife strained? What is wrong with Lisbon's relationship with her boyfriend?...Lots more to come hopefully soon. And I know there's very little talk about what's happened to each of them in the intervening years but it is coming later in the story. Thank you for reading. And you know I love a lovely review...**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Apologies no Jane in this chapter but people are clamouring for an update so I thought I'd better provide one before you get tired waiting. This one is Lisbon centric throughout. I have half of next chapter written so won't be too long until I post it. And Jane will be in it for sure! Thanks again for all the lovely words of encouragement for this fic. I'm truly overwhelmed and flattered so many of you are enjoying it so far.**

* * *

Chapter 3 - Reassessment

After a few hours rest where they took turns driving back from Malibu Lisbon directed her team to begin the investigation. Now she was back on her home turf she felt more capable of taking a distanced stance to the case than being in Patrick Jane's presence once again. "Van Pelt, make a start on Melissa Jane's contacts. Talk to her friends, relatives. Ascertain if they can shed light on why someone would want her dead. And find out where her cell is."

As Van Pelt nodded and began to log onto her computer Lisbon said to Rigsby, "Check out Patrick Jane's alibi. There should be someone at the television station by now that can help with that. Check what time he left and the last person he spoke with."

"Sure boss."

"Cho, find out when we're getting the coroner's report then help Van Pelt with phone interviews. If anyone jumps out let me know and we'll go talk to them."

* * *

A knock came to her door thirty minutes later as she finished off some paperwork on another case. She waved Van Pelt inside.

"Hey, boss. No luck with Melissa Jane's cell phone. It must be switched off, can't track it but I'll keep trying. I checked through her recent calls with her cell provider though and there are a lot of calls to and from a Paul Henson. Checked him out. He's a golf pro at the Country Club she's a member of-"

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "How the other half live, huh? Okay. What's his story?"

"That's just it. Can't track him down. Cell is switched off and he didn't report in for work today."

Lisbon frowned. "That is strange. You suspect he and Melissa were having an affair?"

Van Pelt shrugged. "Well there are a lot of calls and...from her appointment calendar she took...well she took a lot of lessons."

Lisbon leaned back in her chair, thinking. She had already suspected an affair when she saw the lack of a wedding ring and it seemed her hunch was right. But she was also sure that Patrick Jane was not fool enough not to know about it yet he hadn't mentioned it in his interview. Perhaps because the woman was dead he didn't want to besmirch her name. But perhaps there was another reason for his reticence.

"Good work, Grace. Has Rigsby got Patrick Jane's alibi corroborated yet?"

At that moment Rigsby appeared at her door. Overhearing the question he answered her, "Producer says he left the station at ten forty five last night. Was last seen talking to an assistant that worked there, Cindy Couples, in the parking lot. Talked to her, she says he left the lot around eleven. But-"

"But what?"

The tall agent's face contorted in a grimace. "I don't think she was being entirely truthful. She seemed...panicked. Might be nothing-"

"And it might be something. Get her to come in here tomorrow for a follow up. Being in an interrogation room is more likely to get her to be straight with us."

"Will do, boss. Coroner's backed up by the way, we won't have autopsy results until tomorrow."

"Okay. Put a BOLO out on Henson and his car. See if we can track him down. If they were having an affair chances are he's drowning his sorrows somewhere when he saw the news this morning. You and Cho continue to talk to Melissa's girlfriends. If anyone knew for sure she was having an affair with Henson then they would. Van Pelt and I will go check out the Country Club."

* * *

They met the president of the Club Edward Stanhope shortly after they arrived. They were seated in a wood panelled office as he sat across a desk from them. "Such a tragedy about Melissa," the man in his early sixties with manicured nails and his short neatly styled grey hair said, "I'm at a loss as to how to express myself about it."

"Did you know her well?" Lisbon asked.

"Well...not really...to say hello, you know. Nothing more than that. But always sad for someone to die in such horrific circumstances. And so young too." He smiled politely. "I only met her in passing as it were. Different age bracket, you understand."

"Of course," Lisbon nodded. "Paul Henson, your golf pro, seemed to have a booked a lot of appointments with Mrs Jane," she added. She let the statement float in the air as she studied the man opposite her. She noticed a slight downturn at the corner of his lips as his name was mentioned and his fingers tug slightly on the wedding band on his hand. She tilted her chin upwards for a response.

"Well," Stanhope said, clearing his throat. "I believe Mr Henson is quite...um...popular among the ladies who play golf here."

"Yeah," Lisbon quipped. "It's no wonder you're not turning out pro women golfers if Mrs Jane's appointment book with him is anything to go by."

The man gritted his teeth through a painted smile. "Yes...Agent Lisbon, I'm employed to run this Club. Now...if the ladies who are members here decide to...fraternise with the staff then...well it's really none of my concern."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and let go of a breath. "I try to rise above such matters quite honestly."

"As long as they keep paying their subscriptions," Van Pelt smiled as she took notes.

Lisbon bit back a smile in response and addressed the increasingly red faced man opposite them again. "We're unable to get hold of Paul Henson and believe he didn't show up for work today. Do you have any idea where he could be?"

He shook his head. "No. I heard he didn't turn in. Missed a few appointments I believe which is quite unlike him. But I suppose he must have heard about Melissa by now. He's probably in a local watering hole I'd imagine."

"Most likely," Lisbon nodded. "How about Patrick Jane? I believe he's a member here too."

"He is but...in name only. I believe he attended one of our functions a couple of years ago but I don't believe I've seen him since." He chuckled lightly. "Certainly not on the golf course or participating in any of our other activities. Not exactly the sporty type and well-"

"Well what?" Van Pelt asked.

"Well...when I met him I distinctly got the feeling that this Club...well the people who attend it are...beneath him somehow. Quite surprising considering his own rather chequered background and what he does for a living. Quite an arrogant human being if I'm being honest. He seemed to take delight in the embarrassment of others."

Lisbon smiled at that. She could imagine the boy she knew poking fun at the stuffed shirts who were members of this place, taking delight in bringing them down a step or two. Maybe more of who he was still existed beneath the materialistic exterior after all.

* * *

"Teresa?"

Lisbon jumped at the intrusion into her thoughts then looked at the plate in front of her, barely touched. She glanced at her boyfriend who was eyeing her with a frown on his face. She smiled at him then put a piece of ravioli into her mouth. "Sorry Ryan, what were you saying?" she asked as she swallowed it.

"Well I was telling you about the Hollander prosecution and I can see you're riveted by it," he smiled laughing softly as they ate dinner together.

"Sorry," she said again, "mind's elsewhere. What's happening with it?"

"Got him to take the manslaughter plea."

Lisbon nodded as she speared another bit of pasta. "Well it'll save me a court day, I guess."

"Thought you'd be pleased about that." He paused as he took a sip of wine. "That case today did shake you up, didn't it? Even if it wasn't Red John."

"I told you before, Ryan-"

"Yes you told me you were fine. But it's obvious you're not, Teresa. Just talk to me. Please."

His dark brown eyes gazed at her across the table. Unable to stare at the hurt in them she got off her chair and began to clear the plates away silently. As she reached the sink she said with her back to him, "You're right. I'm not fine. But...but it's not because of the reason you think."

He came up behind her as she washed their plates. He took up a position beside and began drying them. "What is it then?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "The victim's husband-"

"Patrick Jane? Word around the D.A.'s office is he's your prime suspect."

She rolled her eyes as she scrubbed a plate with renewed vigour. "Yeah, well it would be nice if you and the other people who work there could actually wait for us to do our jobs first before you jump to conclusions," she remarked, a bite to her tone.

"Hey, I'm only telling you what's being said, Teresa. Wasn't meant as a criticism of your detective work," he argued.

She passed him the last plate and began to dry her hands. "Yeah, I know," she sighed. She cleared her throat. "Reason I'm distracted is that I know him. Well...knew him. I haven't seen him in years though but...well it was just a shock today to see him again after all this time. Especially under these circumstances."

"I can imagine," he nodded. He frowned slightly at her. "I'm guessing when you say you knew him that...well you meant in more than the platonic sense."

A little colour went to her cheeks. "You could say that, yes."

He shrugged. "Okay. And by your tone just now you don't think he's guilty."

"I know he isn't."

He sucked in a breath. "Sweetheart, you can't _know_ that. Not already."

Logically he was correct. She couldn't know for certain. And if his wife was having an affair it gave him motive. Somehow she'd have to get the truth out of him tomorrow. And she had a gut feel that she wasn't going to like it even if he was innocent of murder.

"Looks to me like he was more than a fling," Ryan said as he studied her expression become increasingly troubled. "He meant something to you, didn't he?"

"It was a long long time ago, Ryan. Over a decade. But...well yeah he was important to me," she admitted. She was lucky to have a boyfriend who was comfortable in his place in her life even if things were rocky currently, who didn't waste time being jealous. _But then up until now he had no reason to be_ her confused brain added unconsciously.

"Why have you never mentioned him to me before? I mean, you had no problem telling me about that guy you spent that weekend with after knowing him for a day," he chuckled.

She blushed at the memory. "Yeah, that was not one of my smarter choices," she laughed. "But I just graduated from the Academy, had to blow off some steam."

"But Patrick Jane was a smart choice?" he asked, serious again.

Sometimes she hated that her boyfriend was a Prosecutor. He never knew when to just let things lie. Instead of answering the question she shrugged. "I should go home, I'm exhausted."

"You're not staying over?"

She shook her head. "Not tonight. I need to get a good night's sleep. It'll be a long day tomorrow. It's a big case."

"I understand." He nodded and smiled but she could see the disappointment he was trying to hide that she was distancing herself from him and this conversation. She took a step forward and kissed him gently. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

* * *

As she put the key in her ignition she stopped suddenly and pulled out her cell phone. "Hey, you still up? Okay if I call over for a few minutes?"

She arrived at the two storey suburban house on the outskirts of Sacramento ten minutes later. She opened the gate in the middle of the white picket fence and strolled up the path, breathing in the scent of gardenias from the shrubs that edged the lawn. She smiled as she saw two kids' bikes haphazardly strewn on the porch and had to shift one to rap on the panelled door. It opened in front of her and she smiled as her brother Stan stood before her. "Hey, sis! Was wondering if you would show up tonight," he smiled as he hugged her briefly before gesturing for her to follow him down the hallway.

As they entered the living room the television was predictably tuned to a football game. He muted the sound and pulled a can of beer from the fridge, offering it to Lisbon. "I'm good thanks," she said, shaking her head as she plopped herself on the well worn couch. "Karen and the kids in bed?"

"Yeah, only time I get some time to myself," he laughed.

"And you wouldn't have it any other way," his sister told him.

He shrugged. "You ever tell her that I'll disown you."

Lisbon grinned at him. "Yeah, would like to see how you cope without me. You were the one who followed me to California years ago."

"Well that was just for the weather," he argued with a smile on his face. He tilted his head at the beer can in his hand. "Well if you don't want it there's point wasting it then," Stan said as he pulled off the ring pull and took a large gulp immediately followed by a loud belch.

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "You're disgusting," she said but smiled, knowing he'd only just done that because it annoyed her. He sat on the couch and nodded to her, "So...anything new?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes again, knowing he knew exactly why she was at his house. "You saw the news then?" she said, more serious.

He puffed out a breath. "Blast from the past or what, huh? You saw him, it's your case?"

She nodded, biting her lip. "Yeah...this morning. It was...weird."

"I'll bet. You told Ryan about him?"

She pulled her head back. "Yeah, I told him I used to know him-"

"You tell him you were crazy about him?"

"Stan-"

"Come on, Reese. It's just me and you. You think I forget the state you were in when he left? You tried to pretend you were okay but I heard you crying yourself to sleep every night for a month."

"You're exaggerating," she said, turning red.

"No I'm not and you know I'm not," he told her in a rare sign of sternness. "So...how was he? Same arrogant asshole?" he smiled, lightening the atmosphere.

She shook her head slowly. "He was...I don't know. He'd just lost his wife so it was hard to read him but...yeah...think that part of him is still there. But...but he's not the same person I knew. Or at least I don't think he is."

"Like meeting your idol, huh?" Stan said.

She squinted her eyes at him. "What?"

"You've held him up on some kind of pedestal all these years, T. You judged every other man who entered your life against him and whatever happened between the two of you years ago. Measured them up-"

"Just because I'm not married with three kids like you doesn't mean I never got over Patrick Jane, Stan! Besides I'm with Ryan now, aren't I? We've been together a year and a half, that's a commitment."

"And you still have your own place. Plus you see him on your terms, Reese. You still keep him at a distance."

Lisbon stammered, "He's...he's said that to you?"

Her brother shook his head. "I know you don't think I'm the sharpest tool sometimes but I have eyes, Teresa. The other week at Peter's birthday party things were strained between you. It was obvious."

Quietly, "Well we've been going through a rough patch lately." She picked at a piece of fluff on her jeans. Louder, "I'm not here to talk about Ryan and I. But...well you might have a slight point about how I've thought about Patrick over the years. I suppose I hoped he would turn into a better person than he actually did. Maybe it's time I took off my rose coloured glasses where he's concerned."

Stan shrugged, took another swig of beer. "Maybe. But for what it's worth I don't think he did it. Killed his wife, I mean." He placed the can on the coffee table in front of him. "He was a nosy prick but...he's not a killer. No way would he have the stomach for something like that."

She had called Stan on a whim but now she realised why she had. She wanted someone to back up her instinct, someone that knew him, albeit briefly, years before and she was comforted immediately as he'd said the words.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Apologies, a shortish chapter but some RL stuff going on that doesn't lend a lot of time for writing longer chapters currently.**

* * *

Chapter 4 - Revelations

"Thanks for coming by to talk to us," Rigsby said as he addressed Cindy Couples across the desk in the interrogation room as Cho sat by his side. She was in her mid twenties with shoulder length perfectly straight blonde hair and wore a red sleeveless fitted dress that accentuated her slim figure. Highly polished scarlet nails and a pair of killer heels completed the look.

"No problem, Agent, I'm sure this is a big case for you," she smiled through perfectly white teeth.

Rigsby smiled back nervously as she attempted to flirt with him. Coughing slightly, "You were seen talking to Patrick Jane on the night of his wife's murder after his appearance on the show you work on."

"Yes," sexy Barbie supplied with another smile.

"How long did that conversation last?" He checked his notes. "According to your producer you were seen talking to him in the parking lot at almost eleven pm."

She shrugged. "Not long. We talked for a little while." She grinned, "I was trying to persuade him to come on the show again. Or consider a one on one interview about his rising profile in the media. He's very...photogenic after all."

"No doubt," Cho commented without enthusiasm. "What time did he leave the studios?'

"Ah," Couples said, placing a manicured fingertip to her lip, "eleven. Something like that. I don't really know. I went back into the studio after talking to him, worked there until well after my shift finished at 12.30."

Rigsby and Cho exchanged glances. Then Rigsby pulled out a photograph from a file in front of him, passing it to Couples.

She frowned and then cleared her throat as her index finger began to shake. "What...what is this?" she asked, her confident tone now one of nervousness as she stared at the black and white photograph in front of her.

Cho told her, "It's a photo of you leaving the studio at eleven. Straight after Patrick Jane drives out of the security gate." He arched an eyebrow. "Piece of advice, Cindy. If you're going to lie then make sure there are no security cameras around that can catch you at it." He leaned across the desk. "Now, tell us why you lied and tell us what happened between you and Patrick Jane."

The young woman glanced from side to side, her composure gone.

Cho relaxed his tone. "We can forget about a perjury charge if you tell us the truth now."

"Perjury!"

Rigsby chipped in as he looked at Cho, "We could probably get her on obstruction of justice, too."

Cho glanced at him and nodded. Amicably, "Yeah, you're probably right."

"What!" Couples screeched. "But I...I haven't done anything!'

"Then tell us the truth," Cho said, his tone stern once again.

"I was supposed to be at work until twelve thirty. If my boss finds out-"

"Did you not just hear us? You'll have more to worry about than losing your job if you don't start being honest."

"Okay," Couples said, taking a breath. She licked her lips nervously. "I left straight after Patrick did. We made...arrangements to meet back at my place."

"And did you?"

She shrugged, "Yes, we did. He spent an hour with me then he went home, was about 12.15 when he left I think." She added, "Look I want you to know I'm not normally the type to sleep with married men...really I'm not."

"But he talked you into it," Cho said without expression.

"Yes," she said, attempting to find the high road. "It was all his idea," she stated as she raised her chin. "If anyone is a victim here it's me."

"I think Melissa Jane might disagree with you if she were alive to do so," Cho replied stony faced.

* * *

Lisbon watched the exchange from behind the two way mirror and nibbled on her bottom lip. She wished she could say she was surprised at Couples' revelation but she had been a cop long enough to smell a blatantly unhappy marriage and what people did when they were in one on too many occasions as part of her work. She didn't get the feeling that this was a long term affair as it appeared his wife had been involved in, just an opportunity that Patrick Jane had not turned down when offered on a plate. And as much as Couples said he was to blame even in Lisbon's less than unbiased view she knew the opposite was more than likely true. All the same, it didn't make his adultery any better than his wife's.

She looked at her bare left hand ring finger and rolled her eyes. No wonder she was terrified of marriage when she witnessed the deception it could entail when two people fell out of love in her job almost every day. Assuming they were ever in love in the first place. She'd experienced first hand the look of wonderment when Patrick Jane looked at her.

Had he ever looked at his wife like that she began to wonder.

* * *

Lisbon checked her watch and took a breath as she came to terms with the testimony she'd just observed. Patrick Jane was due in for a follow up interview in ten minutes where she'd have to bring up his cheating on his wife. And push him on his wife's suspected cheating.

She drank a large glug of coffee to prepare herself for the task in hand.

The night before she'd slept little, her thoughts turning to distant memories of his gleaming smile, soft lips and artful fingers more than a full-grown woman with a long term boyfriend rightfully should. She shuffled some papers on her desk and expelled another breath. She glanced at her desk drawer then gnawed on her bottom lip. Pulling it open she searched around the back of it until her fingers brushed against cold metal. Smiling softly she pried out the silver pen he'd given her over a decade ago. She stared at it in her hands, blowing off the pencil shavings that covered it. She hadn't used it in years but she had carried it around with her all through College and when she joined the Police Force. The last time she'd used it was when she signed her transfer papers to the CBI three years before. She swallowed a lump in her throat and shook her head. "What the hell happened to you, Patrick?" she said to herself quietly.

A knock on the door and the sound of it opening made her drop the pen. "Boss, Patrick Jane's here looking for you," Rigsby said.

"Okay," she nodded, clearing her throat. "Where is he?" she added, getting to her feet.

"Bullpen. You want me to take him into an interrogation room?"

She peered through the blinds and saw him standing talking quietly to Van Pelt with his back turned. He wore a grey suit, his curls tamed and his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Um...no that's okay, I'll do it."

When she opened her door Van Pelt nodded in her direction and he turned towards her. His eyes raked over her form immediately and a soft smile fell on his lips. Unlike the day before where he was distracted today he seemed much more in control of his emotions and she felt him scrutinise every inch of her. "Agent Lisbon," he stated, strolling up and outstretching his hand in a reserved manner. "How is the case progressing?"

She felt a little unbalanced by his formality but supposed he was doing it for her benefit. He'd correctly assumed that her team weren't aware of their personal history and nor did she want them to be. "Mr Jane," she replied, shaking his hand and doing her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach that fluttered with the gesture.

He stilled his hand for a second as their fingers touched and narrowed his eyes at her, curious all of a sudden. He quickly withdrew his hand as she did with hers and he lowered his eyes, seemingly a tad wobbly himself.

She stammered, "Uh...we're looking at a number of leads currently. We'd appreciate your help with some follow up questions we have."

"Of course," he stated, his expression composed again. "Lead the way."

She nodded towards her office, "Uh...maybe we could talk a little in my office first."

As she opened the door she gestured to the red couch and shut the door behind her. As he sat down his eyes darted at everything in the small cubicle as he took in the surroundings. She stood with her back to the desk, her hands clenching the front of it from behind her.

"So...this is your little piece of heaven," he said with a small smile.

"Suppose you could say that," she smiled. Then, concerned, "How are you doing?"

He shrugged and looked ahead of him as his face contorted into a grimace. "I'm not sure to be honest. It's...well it's been a rough couple of nights."

"You're not alone, are you? I mean...I should have asked you the other day, you have friends...people you can talk to about all this?"

His lips pursed into a thin line and he let go of a humourless chuckle. "Friends...hmmm." He glanced up at her, straightening his expression into a painted smile. "I'm fine, Teresa. You have questions for me obviously."

"Well...yeah. I just thought before we get to them that I should check you want me to be the one to question you...officially. It's just...due to our...history...it might be better for you to talk to other people on my team instead. May allow you to feel more comfortable in giving your responses to any questions we have to ask you."

He frowned as he thought for a moment. "But wouldn't you hear the responses anyway? Either afterwards or through a two way mirror?"

She flushed, "Well...yes-"

"Teresa I don't expect any special treatment from you just because we know each other. Sorry. Knew each other. A lot of time has passed. But it appears you are the one uncomfortable in questioning me."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Well you have to admit this is a weird situation."

He smiled, "Admittedly it is. Certainly not the circumstances I ever envisaged in bumping into you again."

"Me neither," she agreed.

He raised himself from the couch and frowned slightly. "Do you ever sit on that thing? It's very uncomfortable, you know."

She rolled her eyes. "Sorry it's not to your liking. We don't exactly have a big budget for office furnishings, Patrick."

He smiled at her before looking through the windows into the bullpen, solemn again. A beat passed. "I've thought of you often," he said quietly. "Over the years."

She took a breath in as goose pumps involuntarily erupted on her skin. "Yeah. Me too," she said in a whisper.

He turned his face back to her intensifying his gaze as he stared at her. "You have?"

She stuttered, "Of...of course I have, Patrick."

He nodded a sad but satisfied smile as he looked away again and released a breath.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – Cat & Mouse

"You have been advised of your rights and waived the right to counsel," Cho stated as he and Lisbon sat opposite Jane in an interrogation room.

Jane raised an eyebrow at Lisbon briefly then addressed Cho. "Well that all sounds very official and terrifying. But I'm guessing that's your intention. It's your way of attempting to intimidate me. Fair enough, Agent Cho, consider me afraid." The smile that played on his lips as he said the words made a liar out of his statement and showed them the opposite was in fact the case.

Undeterred, "We have a witness who states you lied in your previous statement," Cho pressed before leaning back in his chair and folding his arms.

"Interesting," Jane nodded before falling into silence.

Lisbon's eyes darted between both men as they stared at each other, waiting for the other to speak. "Mr Jane," she started, "do you know a Cindy Couples?"

Jane's attention turned to her. "Yes."

She rolled her eyes, realising she was going to have to change her questioning strategy if she was going to get more than one word answers from him. "How do you know her?" she asked.

A flicker of guilt swept across his face and he sighed, dropping his mask of amusement, "I think the question you want to ask me is if I know her in the biblical sense, Agent Lisbon."

She coloured faintly. "She states that you went back to her place after your television appearance and that you slept together. Is that true?"

He tilted his head from side to side, sighing again. "Yes and no. I went back to her place but no sleeping was involved in what we participated in when I got there." He caught Lisbon's eyes that held a glimmer of judgement on his behaviour and then averted his quickly, focusing on Cho again.

"You had sex," Cho confirmed.

"Yes."

"Why did you lie?" Lisbon pressed. "Why didn't you mention that you had her as an alibi as soon as we questioned you?"

He shrugged. "I didn't lie. I just didn't tell you everything. I did stop for food after."

She looked at him pointedly, exasperated by his blurring of the lines of truth and lies. "You knew we were treating you as a suspect," she replied, raising her voice slightly. "You almost welcomed it, why?"

He nodded and looked to his hands that were sitting on top of the table. He played with his wedding band and breathed heavily. "I was ashamed," he said quietly. "At the time my wife was being brutally murdered I was off having sex with someone I didn't even like all that much. Just someone...keen and convenient." He shook his head, his voice cracking, "I...I suppose I should have told you sooner." He brought his eyes back to hers and lingered his gaze, watching her reaction.

While she was sympathetic and could see the pain etched in his face, the guilt he felt almost tangible in his visage a part of her sensed there was more he still wasn't saying. She brought her eyes back to the file in front of her, clearing her throat as his eyes continued to burn into hers, beginning to confuse her initial assessment.

"Why'd you ask Cindy Couples to lie for you?" Cho intervened, breaking the moment between them.

Jane frowned as he addressed the second in command. "I didn't. You told me she admitted to having sex with me."

"Not without being threatened with charges first," Cho told him.

Jane drew his head back, his frown deepening. "I didn't ask her to do that. I haven't spoken to her since I left her place." He sighed loudly. "I suppose...I dunno...maybe she thought by not telling you that I'd owe her. She's left messages looking to do a one on one interview piece with her to discuss Melissa's murder." He shook his head, barely concealed anger to his words, "I knew she was ambitious but-" He bit the inside of his cheek before shrugging and leaning back in his chair.

"So this wasn't an ongoing affair?" Lisbon asked.

"No. A one off. Certainly not to be repeated."

"Do you have many of those? One offs?" she asked, trying to keep her tone impartial.

A beat passed as he stared at her. "What does my sex life have to do with Melissa's murder? How is it relevant?"

Cho leaned across the desk towards him. "Maybe one of your other ex girlfriends decided to get rid of the competition."

Lisbon blushed as Jane's eyes flickered to hers momentarily.

"Doubt it," he stated finally. "I'm careful who I have sex with and honest with what they should expect from me afterwards. I am...well was married." He took a breath before he continued. "I never went looking for another long term relationship on top of that."

"Why should we believe you anymore than they might? You deal in dishonesty every day. You con people for a living," Cho said.

Lisbon knew what Cho was doing, pushing Jane's buttons like she had taught him to do with suspects. He must have noticed something in Jane's demeanour earlier too that seemed misplaced. She imagined Cho was considering the notion that if he hadn't killed Melissa himself he could have set it up and used Cindy Couples as a very convenient alibi. Suddenly she felt they were back at square one in many regards.

Jane ignored the jibe from her team member. Placidly, "It's up to you what you want to believe, Agent Cho. And up to you to find proof of my involvement."

"Do you know a Paul Henson?" Lisbon asked, changing the topic from his own adultery to his wife's.

"The fact you ask that question means you must know I do," Jane said, some sharpness to his voice.

As she was about to speak again he cut in on top of her. "Look, if you're going to ask me if I knew my wife was having sex with her golfing instructor then yes, of course I knew." He calmed his voice. "It didn't bother me."

Lisbon's eyes widened. "Your wife was having an affair and it didn't bother you?! I find that surprising."

He laughed softly as he looked off to the side. "An affair would speak of deception and lies. We discussed it. So, no, not affair. Romantic entanglement, yes."

"So you had an open marriage?" Cho chipped in.

Jane shrugged. "Guess you could call it that."

"I still find it hard that any partner would accept the other's adultery," Lisbon argued.

He stared at the cross around her neck before slowly traversing his gaze to her face. He spoke softly. "So would I if I'd married the right partner, Teresa."

For a moment she felt like they were the only two people in the room and her lips parted as she took a sharp intake of air as he finished his sentence. It was only Cho's quizzical look out of the corner of her eye that brought her back to her senses. She took a breath and licked her lips. She stammered, "So...so you're uh...you're saying you knew about her affair?" she confirmed. She knew she was repeating what had already been said but she'd suddenly lost the thread of the conversation after his last statement had her heart hammering in her chest.

"Relationship, not affair, but yes," he replied, a slight smile on his face at her temporary discombobulation.

"Do you have any idea where Paul Henson is?" Cho asked, taking charge of the interview.

Jane turned back to him and shrugged. "No. He was my wife's...well whatever the equivalent of mistress is...not mine."

Lisbon, more in control of herself narrowed her eyes at him. "Okay, thank you for coming in, Mr Jane," she said as she rose from her chair. "If there's anything else we'll be in touch." She began to gather her notes as Cho frowned at her, surprised at her ending the interview so quickly.

Jane, sitting opposite, appeared slightly perplexed himself. "That's it?"

She nodded, looking at the papers and not him, "Yes, thank you for your co-operation."

* * *

"I thought you would have dug a little deeper about Paul," Jane said as she showed him to the elevator minutes later.

"You said you didn't know where he was. You don't, do you?" Her green eyes bored into his.

He blinked and shook his head. "No."

She nodded slowly. "Okay then."

"Now you're really disappointed in me," Jane remarked with half of an anxious smile. "You're probably wondering why we stayed married as long as we did."

"I have to admit I'm curious. It doesn't sound like either one of you was happy."

He shrugged, "It was what we were both used to in the end. Suited us both to go our separate ways personally but put on a front for others to see."

"I see people staying together for lots of reasons in this job. Sometimes it's difficult to walk away."

He paused before nodding. "Yes," he agreed, "I remember such an occasion a long time ago in fact," he said with a mixture of sadness and fondness.

Her cheeks blazing, "Patrick!" she whispered looking around her as people came and went. "You can't say...-" She took a breath. "You're all over the place. It's natural to be that way when you've suffered a loss but-"

"I apologise," he said sheepishly as he looked to his shoes. "You're right. I-I don't know what the hell I'm saying. Melissa dying and seeing you again all of a sudden it's left me...confused I suppose. I didn't mean to make you feel awkward. Now or earlier. I'm sorry, Teresa."

"It's fine, really. You should go home and start making funeral arrangements. Keeping busy will help. Remembering the good times you had with her and not focusing on the bad ones. Coroner should be finished in a couple of days she'll be released back to you."

"I didn't kill her or orchestrate it," he said solemnly. "I know your Agent Cho is still in two minds about my involvement but I need you to believe that, Teresa. Whatever problems we had in our marriage I'd never wish that death on anyone."

"I believe you," she said softly.

He nodded as the elevator opened before them. He waited for a moment, blatantly unsure of how to say goodbye. She stuck her hand out to make the decision for him. He took it and smiled warmly at her. "When this is all over I'd like to catch up with you properly." He stammered, "I just mean to catch up I don't mean...well I didn't want to imply anything more than-"

"I know what you meant," she smiled, a touch of shyness as she pinned back a lock of her hair. "Of course, I'd like that too. I hope we get the chance."

* * *

She puffed out a breath to control her heartbeat as she made her way back to her office where Minelli was waiting for her in the chair opposite her desk.

"So, Lisbon, how'd it go with the psychic?"

She sat down at her desk as she released another breath. "Just a minute, boss."

She picked up her desk phone and dialled a number. "Cho, Rigs, you all set?" She listened on the other end. "Yeah, he's just left. Don't tail him too close, maintain your distance but keep him in sight. Okay, keep me updated. Thanks."

When she put her desk phone down Minelli's eyes matched the smile he wore. "Well, it appears you can certainly be impartial in this case by the sound of it. I think you need to update me, Teresa."

"He didn't murder her," she stated, her semblance composed again. Sternly, "Let me start by saying I'm sure of that."

"But?" her boss prodded.

She rolled the silver pen over her desk as she sucked in a breath. "But he did lie in the interview." She dropped the pen and looked off to the side for a moment, pondering her next sentence. Slowly, "Well I'm not exactly sure lying is the correct word either-"

"Teresa, you're not dealing with the United Nations here. You don't need to be so careful with your words. It's just me and you. Tell me why you have two of your agents following him," Minelli snapped.

She knew he was getting pressure from his superiors and the longer it took to solve this case the more the press would hang on to the Red John angle. She nodded, "Okay. Well part of it is just my gut. He admitted he slept with Couples, quite openly in fact. He said he didn't tell us before because he said he was ashamed-"

"But you didn't believe him?"

"No. I did. I genuinely think he was ashamed that he was off with some assistant when his wife was being killed. That he feels guilt over it. But...that doesn't account for him not telling us at the time. I think...well I think he wanted to be the focus of the investigation, to make us believe he might be responsible, even for a short while."

"Why in the name of god would he want that?"

She licked her lips as she recalled the boy she knew. "When I knew him...years ago...he was...well he probably still is...the smartest person I'd ever met." She smiled affectionately as she recalled those days, "And the most devious."

"Sounds like quite a character," Minelli laughed.

"Yeah, believe me he was," she smiled. Serious again, "Anyway, remembering that I just know that if he wanted us to look in _his_ direction-"

"Then we'd be distracted from looking in someone else's," Minelli finished for her.

"Precisely."

He nodded slowly, "Well that's all well and good but it'd be helpful if we knew whose direction he doesn't want us looking in."

"I'm coming to that. I asked him about Paul Henson. If he knew his whereabouts. He said he didn't. Straight away."

Minelli furrowed his brow as he attempted to understand her point. Suddenly he smiled, "Ah! He didn't act surprised that he was AWOL. He knew already."

She nodded, "Yep. So I have to believe that he's looking for him. He's certainly rich enough and driven, he probably has a PI on it from yesterday. Even if he and his wife had a rotten marriage something tells me he wants to find her murderer just as much as we do. Maybe more."

"Hmm," Minelli said as he drummed some fingers over his lips. "Personal vengeance from a spouse. Not the first time we've seen it." He took a sip of the coffee in front of him. Louder, "You think this Henson murdered Melissa Jane?"

She shrugged. "I have no idea until we get a chance to talk to him. But what I do think is that's what Patrick Jane is investigating. And that he must have his reasons for doing so. But he's also not interested in sharing any of what he's up to with us. Which, like you say, is worrying. But if we follow him-"

"Then he'll lead us straight to him."

"That's the hope," she said with a twinkle of her eyes.

* * *

 **A/N: I know for all you Jane and Lisbon romance fans there is very little in this story so far but please bear with me. And thank you for all the wonderful reviews so far and support this story has received. I have been terrible in replying to reviews recently but please know they mean the world to me and I will attempt to get back on track from this point on.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Apologies for lack of updates this week on all my stories and this one is also a short one I'm afraid, real life has been hitting me squarely on the head this week. Just wanted to post something so you don't think I've abandoned my fics. I'm hoping normal service will resume soon.**

* * *

Chapter 6 – Run around

"So, what do you think the story is between the boss and this Jane guy?" Rigsby asked as he sat beside Cho was trailing Jane.

Cho kept his eyes on the silver Porsche two car lengths ahead. "How do you mean?"

"Come on man, you were in there when she was asking him questions. I was watching behind the two way mirror, the way he called her 'Teresa' at one point and they way they looked at each other? It was weird."

Cho ignored his colleague's attempt at conversation.

"So?" Rigsby tried again. "It looked to me like they know each other."

"None of our business."

Rigsby chuckled, "Hey, you think the boss is into psychics? Now that would be something."

Cho slowed the car as Jane drew up towards a red light ahead. He sighed, allowing another car to filter into the lane in front of him so they could keep their distance but still observe him. "You need to find a girlfriend," his friend told him.

Rigsby looked out of the side window of the car, a nearby taco stand grabbing his attention. He muttered, "I'm trying."

"A girlfriend that isn't Van Pelt."

Rigsby turned towards him, wide eyed. "How did you-"

"It's obvious. And a bad idea. She's out of your league and she's your colleague."

Rigsby let go of a heavy sigh. "Yeah but she's so hot. And why do you think she's out of my-"

Suddenly his attention was caught by the screech of Patrick Jane's tyres as he rushed through the red light ahead, horns blaring as he weaved his way through oncoming traffic.

"Damn it!" Cho uttered through gritted teeth as he banged his hand on the steering wheel.

"Guess he noticed our tail," Rigsby said.

Cho glared at him as he stated the obvious. "Just for that you can call the boss and tell her we lost him."

"You were the one driving, you lost him so you can tell her." Rigsby smirked, "I always told you I was a better driver than you."

* * *

"What do you mean you lost him?" Lisbon barked as she spoke to Cho on the phone minutes later. She took a breath. "Okay, tell me where you tracked him until you did." As she listened to him on the other end of the line a line appeared between her eyes. When he'd finished speaking she nodded, "Fine, I might have another idea. Get back here." She paused and smiled, "Think you'll be able to manage to do that without getting lost?"

She came out of her office and to Van Pelt's desk seconds later. "Van Pelt, can you track Patrick Jane's phone?"

Her subordinate stopped the paperwork she was completing and tapped on the keyboard in front of her. "Sure, why what happened?"

"They lost him."

Van Pelt shook her head. "No, seems to be switched off, boss."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Yeah, thought it might be," she said under her breath. Louder, "Okay, the financial records of Melissa Jane, you have them, don't you? Credit card statements specifically is what I'm looking for."

Van Pelt dug through some files to her right. "Yeah, here you go," she said brightly as she handed them over.

Lisbon scanned the first page before moving onto the second.

"What are you looking for?" the redhead asked.

Lisbon picked up a highlighter from the desk in front of her and began to mark out entries on the sheets as she moved the paperwork to the conference table beside her. "Hotels." She nodded to Van Pelt. "Come on, help me." She shoved some papers from the file beside her and added, "Mark out all entries where they relate to hotel stays. Melissa Jane was sleeping with Paul Henson. And despite what an 'open' marriage they had I can't see her sleeping with him with Patrick Jane in the house. They're more like to have conducted their relationship at hotels."

Van Pelt was off her chair in a second and began to copy her boss.

"Why not his place?"

"From all accounts it's a little low rent for her. Plus he has a roommate."

"But boss, but if she was having an affair then wouldn't they have used cash for the room?"

"She seemed to like the finer things in life. A hotel room where you pay cash by the hour doesn't seem to fit that. For somewhere nicer you need to show a credit card. Plus, Patrick Jane knew about their relationship. So why would she hide it?" Lisbon smiled as she marked off another entry. "Plus Cho and Rigsby just tailed Jane to two of the hotels I've found already. He went in, was just there briefly before walking back out and driving off again."

Van Pelt grinned, "He's looking for Paul Henson. Thinks he's gone back to one of the hotels he frequented with his wife."

"Yep," Lisbon confirmed. "And looks like he hasn't found him yet." She took a look at her entries. "Okay, I only have two that Jane hasn't already visited on my list. You?"

Van Pelt put her pen down as Lisbon looked over her shoulder. "Just one."

"Great," Lisbon said, "Let's go."

"Which one first?" Van Pelt put on her jacket as Lisbon ruminated for a second.

"He was travelling west when the guys lost him. So I say we'll try yours first. But we'll call them all before we leave, make sure they call us if Patrick Jane comes enquiring."

* * *

Lisbon and Van Pelt pulled up at a mid class Hotel chain half way from Sacramento to Los Angeles. They checked with the receptionist who stated that Patrick Jane hadn't been in to check on Paul Henson's whereabouts. They had also not seen Paul Henson himself in weeks. As darkness descended Van Pelt yawned, "Okay, next one?"

Lisbon spied a diner across the street, "No. He'll make his way here eventually. I say we wait. Let's get some coffee."

As they sat with two steaming mugs in front of them Van Pelt asked quietly, "So...your boyfriend is Ryan Hastings, from the D.A.'s office?"

Lisbon's eyes were trained on the building across the street. "Yeah, that's right."

"He's nice. I mean...I've only talked to him a couple of times but-"

"Van Pelt, we don't discuss our personal relationships at work," she interrupted, turning to her briefly. She relaxed her tone, "Sorry...didn't mean to sound harsh but...it's simpler all round to keep work separate from our personal lives."

The other woman reddened immediately, "Sorry-"

"No, that's okay," Lisbon said with a shake of her head. "I know it must seem weird me saying that when I'm with someone I met through work. It's just I'm your boss and-"

"I understand," Van Pelt smiled. "I was just going to say he's pretty good looking."

Lisbon grinned and raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Do I have some competition to worry about?"

"Oh, god, no! I just meant-"

Lisbon laughed, "I'm kidding, Grace. And thanks, I guess."

Van Pelt released a breath. "You're a lucky girl," she teased as she took a long sip of coffee.

Lisbon's smile faded and she sighed, her attention back out the window again, "Yeah, I know I am."

* * *

Ten minutes later she watched the lights of Patrick Jane's convertible draw up beside the hotel. As Lisbon went to put her coffee cup down she noticed him turn his attention to the establishment they were in and not the hotel. He smiled wryly at her as she attempted to duck out of sight and sauntered across the street. As he opened the door a bell above it sounded and a waitress came to greet him. "I believe my party have already arrived," he smiled at the middle aged blonde woman who flushed at his soft tone and dazzling smile as he quickly glanced towards Lisbon's and Van Pelt's window booth.

As he came to stand at the end of booth he looked from one to the other as they sat opposite each other. "So, we meet again." He turned to Lisbon. "I didn't think we'd be catching up with each other quite so soon again, Agent Lisbon." His knowing look caused her to smile against her better judgement. Aware of the other woman's glance becoming increasingly suspicious out of the corner of her eye she said to Van Pelt, "Can you chase down the coroner's report, Grace?" Van Pelt stared at her boss and this blond almost stranger who seemed to have quite an effect on her normally unflappable superior. Lisbon added, "Now, Van Pelt," her tone commanding. Van Pelt nodded furiously and moved out of the booth, "I'll check it from the car, boss."

Jane slid into Van Pelt's spot and smiled at Lisbon. She raised her chin and placed her hands around her cup. "So, seems you've had a busy afternoon."

He gestured a 'T' to a nearby waitress and moved the cup in front of him aside. "I could say the same to you. I have to admit, putting a tail on me was a nice touch."

"Well I hope you feel the same way when you're charged with speeding through a red light."

He smirked, "It's not like I can't afford to pay my way out if it."

"When did you realise you were being followed?"

"They were pretty good for the first hour, didn't notice them at all but then I got bored and decided to lose them."

"You weren't surprised to find me here."

"It's late and you have a caffeine habit to feed."

"How did you-"

"Hardly rocket science for a cop to prefer coffee to tea. Plus you smell of it, faintly, but it's there."

She leaned forward on the table, biting her lip as his tea was served and she waited for the waitress to leave. "What are you playing at, Patrick?" she whispered loudly. "I told you to go home."

He frowned as he put milk in his cup and stilled his movements. "As far as I know I don't work for you, Teresa. I don't have to do what you tell me to unlike the redhead."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to help you."

"Yes and you are also trying to use me to find Paul Henson."

"It's my job to find him. And I knew in that interview room you know a damn sight more than what you've told me."

He studied her for a long moment. "Perhaps I do. But before I tell you anything I want a little something in return from you."

She blanched at him and he laughed softly. No, not that." He ran a hand down his face. "Believe me sex is the last thing on my mind at the minute."

"So what do you want then?"

He clicked his tongue. "Well at the moment you currently know a lot about my recent history whereas I know nothing of yours. It's left me feeling somewhat...unbalanced."

"I'm investigating your wife's murder, Patrick. It's my job to find out those details. Not the other way around."

"Yet you're asking me to share information with you. Now...I haven't seen you in over a decade. All I'm asking in return is some details of your recent history. To make sure before I tell you anything that you're the same person I knew and trusted then."

She glowered at him. "And what makes you think I need your help?"

"You're still sitting here even though your coffee is stone cold. And you were waiting here for me."

She rolled her eyes and exhaled. "Jesus, I'd forgotten about your 'quid pro quo' policy. Fine. What do you want to know?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – History

"Well first of all you don't need to look so grumpy. Would you like a piece of pie?" Jane rose from the seat slightly to peer at a glass case near the counter that had a selection of pies and cakes. "The pecan looks good."

"No," Lisbon said, "just tell me what you want to know." She gripped the sides of her mug as she prepared for Jane's grilling, slightly uncomfortable where he might lead the conversation.

He studied her for a few seconds over the rim of his cup as he sipped his tea. Finally he leaned back against the faux leather upholstery. "An easy one first. How long have you worked for the CBI?"

Her shoulders relaxed and she shrugged, "Three years, I was given my own team a few months back."

"The youngest woman ever employed at that level I'm guessing."

She shrugged as she ran her fingers up and down the sides of her cup.

"Still so modest," he smiled with a sigh. "Your brothers, how are they?"

A smile crept up on her lips as her expression softened. "All good."

Jane nodded for her to continue and she puffed out a breath and eased into more of a conversational tone. "Stan lives in Sacramento, actually."

"He followed you here, did he?"

She laughed quietly as she rested her elbows on the table as she leaned towards him. "Something like that. He has a Contracting business. He's doing okay, tough with the economy how it is but he's breaking even most of the time." She paused then added, "Actually do you remember that girl he met the day we met each other?"

"The one he hit on that made him abandon poor Jimmy that afternoon? Of course, I never met her but Karen was her name, yes?"

Her eyes widened, "Wow, that really is a hell of a memory to remember that far back."

"Well it was quite a momentous day for me too," he responded, his smile turning wistful as he looked into his cup.

"Me too," she whispered, the words spilling out of her mouth of their own volition.

Suddenly his blue green eyes locked on hers again and she licked her lips involuntarily, her heart pounding when she saw his eyes drift to them fleetingly. Just as quickly he turned his head to look out the window. "What about her?" he asked as he took a breath of his own. "Karen," he clarified.

"Ah...they...uh...he married her," she said finally, drinking the cold dregs of coffee to moisten her lips and throat.

"Really?" he smiled, the intensity of his gaze towards her gone again as he looked at her.

"Yeah," she smiled back as her heart rate decreased. "Three kids would you believe."

"Wow, breeder," he commented with a short laugh. "He always looked like someone who wanted to settle down." He laughed again, "I liked him. Despite his right hook."

She grinned, "You deserved that."

He shrugged. "May not have been my best idea ever." Silence lapsed between them as they both recalled the scene he had become embroiled in that day. "Tommy?" he enquired.

"He still lives in Chicago in our old house there. He was married too but didn't work out. Has a daughter, though. She's five. Annabeth." Lisbon's eyes lit up as she said her name.

"Your first goddaughter I'm guessing."

"Yeah, how did you-"

"You've been surrounded by males your whole life. Must have been nice for a girl to arrive on the scene at last."

Lisbon smiled and fiddled with her hands for a moment before her expression clouded over. "Yeah, it was," she nodded as she then played with the cross around her neck.

Jane narrowed his eyes and creased his brow. Then, "Jimmy?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes, her face brightening again. "He's good. He stays with Stan or with me sometimes when he's not in LA trying to get famous."

"That sounds interesting."

"Not really," she said with a shake of her head but smiled nonetheless. "He wants to be an actor. Or a rock singer. But mostly he works with Stan."

Jane chuckled, "Nothing wrong with having dreams, Teresa."

"Well yours certainly worked out for you."

He looked to his wedding band. "Not how I imagined they might back then," he said quietly.

"Oh god, I'm sorry, Patrick. I wasn't thinking. For a moment there I..." her voice trailed off. For a few minutes she had actually forgotten the man opposite her had just lost his wife and inwardly berated herself at being so tactless.

"It's fine," he said with a wave of his hand, "to be honest it was nice getting a respite from that myself for a few minutes." He continued, "So, that leaves your fath-"

Before he got the last word out she interrupted, "Patrick, we need to talk about Paul Henson now. You believe he murdered Melissa, don't you?"

He sighed wearily. "Yes."

"Why? And I know there has to be more of an explanation than just because he was her lover."

His eyes circled her face as he pursed his lips.

"Tell me," she said softly. "I'm still that girl, Patrick. You can trust me."

"I know. I know you are. Okay," he said as he took a breath. "Our marriage was...bad. Terrible for many years. We should have broken up a long time ago. In fact we should never have married in the first place."

As she posed a question with her eyes he shook his head, "Why we did get married is a story for another time. Anyway...things were not good and...well of course that meant that things weren't good...physically between us either. We both lost interest. Gradually I moved into the spare room, blamed working late so I wouldn't wake her when I came home at all hours to begin with but we could both feel things were disintegrating between us and that it was an excuse. She agreed readily."

"Did you talk about divorce?"

"Of course. But...neither of us wanted to then-"

"You wanted to work on your marriage?"

He smiled sadly at her. "No. We worked well as a couple. Publicly, that is. I looked more respectable as a married psychic than a single one and she enjoyed the benefits of my growing fame I suppose. I enjoyed them too. It was a partnership and business arrangement more than a marriage the last few years especially.

"Two years ago I introduced her to Henson. I'd become a member of that Country Club to scare up a few new clients. Plenty of bored housewives were members who were ripe for the picking."

He noticed her look of disapproval and shrugged, "You've always known I'm no saint, Teresa."

She nodded, keeping her expression blank, "Go on."

"I could see a spark between them, an attraction. And-"

He bit the inside of his cheek as he averted his eyes momentarily. "And I welcomed it. Encouraged it in fact that night. Stayed back while he worked his _charm_ on her."

She gaped slightly at his admission. "You were...pleased that your wife found another man attractive?"

He shrugged. "She was a young woman. And I...well I was not exactly filling her bed with rose petals every night. Or giving her any attention at all by that point. We barely spoke unless it was in company. I didn't want her to be unhappy but I knew I was incapable...or perhaps unwilling is a more accurate word...of making her happy."

Lisbon shook her head at the terrible marriage he'd gotten himself into. "I can't imagine you were happy either if you weren't even willing to try to make things better."

"I wasn't, no, but it was the life I chose. Maybe the life I deserved with the profession I'm in."

She ignored the curiosity to probe that statement, deciding to stay on Henson instead. "So they began to see each other."

He nodded, "Yes. We spoke about it. Well, I confronted her after she tried to keep it from me that they were sleeping together but of course I knew straightaway. She admitted it and I told her it was fine. As long as she didn't bring him back to the house when I was there then and they kept it relatively discreet we could carry on as normal."

"She wasn't surprised you didn't ask for a divorce?"

"A little. But I didn't want the hassle of all that and some of my clients had become good friends with her. It was easier for me just to ignore it. She was in a better mood most days because of it in fact, made being around each other somewhat more palatable. And it allowed me the freedom to...well rid myself of my own...pent up frustrations on occasion."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Sounds like something out of a soap opera to me."

He laughed softly. "When I think of it now it seems like that to me too. But when you're caught up in it...you get used to any situation if you're in it for long enough."

She thought back to her own dysfunctional teenage years and nodded. Not the same circumstances but she could see his point. "Yeah, suppose you do." Louder, "So, what makes you think he killed her?"

"Less than a week ago she came home early and I was still up. Had a quiet night in for once and was making myself some dinner. I knew there was something wrong as soon as she came back, she was meant to spend the night with him. She tried to mask it but I could tell she'd been crying. I said nothing at first. Assumed they'd had some kind of lovers' tiff and it would blow over. Then I noticed a bruise on her wrist, like someone had held onto it too tightly."

"Paul Henson," Lisbon confirmed.

"Indeed," he remarked darkly. He leaned back in the booth and puffed out a breath, looking out the window to his side again. "We talked. For the first time in...forever...we actually talked like two civilised people. She said it was nothing, that he had a temper sometimes, defended him to begin with-"

"It's what happens in abusive relationships," Lisbon commented. "All kinds of them."

He looked back knowingly at her. "It does."

She reddened and tilted her chin for him to continue. He gazed back out of the window again as raindrops began to pitter patter on the pavement outside. "I got through to her. Eventually. She said she'd finish things with him. Then we began talking about us, about what a mess we'd made for ourselves. It didn't take much for both of us to admit it was time to make a clean break. We agreed to see lawyers-"

He glanced at the date on his watch. "Tomorrow actually." He added quietly, "I must cancel that appointment."

"Just because he beat her up sometimes doesn't mean he killed her though."

He shifted his attention back to her. "No but she was due to see him that night. She told me that. And that she was going to end things. And now he's disappeared into thin air. You're a detective, Teresa. What conclusion would you come to based on those facts?"

"I admit it looks reasonable to assume he might be responsible." She shot him a glare. "Shame you didn't feel like sharing this information right away with us then we could have perhaps located him by now. He could be in Mexico by this stage by waiting until I had to drag this story out of you."

He looked sheepish for a moment. "I want to find him myself-"

"Yeah and I imagine you want to beat the living daylights out of him when you do."

"Teresa, he killed her-"

" _That_ will be up to a court to decide. _If_ we actually do find him and discover if he is responsible. I'm an Officer of the Law, Patrick. I sympathise. Truly. But I can't have you plotting some kind of vigilante justice and ignore it just because we know each other. Let me take care of it." She touched his fingertips briefly as she stared into his eyes. "Please. Just go home. If he did kill her I'll make sure he pays for it. You getting in the way could lead to him getting off on a technicality if you're in the middle of this investigation."

He stared into her eyes for a moment then squeezed her fingertips briefly before letting them fall as he noticed Van Pelt come towards the diner with her phone attached to her ear. "Okay," he said finally. "I'll let you handle this. I'm counting on you to do it right."

"Thank you," she smiled. "I promise I will."

He smiled back and relaxed for a moment. "I might have another lead for you. Just let me visit the bathroom first."

"Sure," she smiled as he got up from his seat. He nodded to Van Pelt as he passed her on his way into the back.

"Hey Grace," Lisbon said brightly, getting up from the seat, relieved that he'd seen sense at last.

"Hey boss, coroner's working on the autopsy now. She was backed up. Talked briefly to her and she said there is skin tissue under her fingernails. Should be able to pull DNA from it. Looks like she scratched him."

"Great. If we can find Paul Henson to get a match then we might just be in luck. Looks like he's our prime suspect."

"That's the other thing. Just got a call from Rigsby. They received an anonymous tip on his whereabouts. His car was spotted not that far away from here on the street; there are a few hotels in the vicinity. I said we'd check them out."

"Sounds good," Lisbon smiled. Then she frowned. "The tip just came in?"

"Few minutes ago, just before Jane arrived here. Local PD is being rolled out. By the way, where was he going just now?"

"He said the Men's Room."

Van Pelt pointed in the opposite direction, "But the Men's Room is back there, boss, and he looked like he was going out the back door."

"Oh crap!" Lisbon muttered, swinging around to see the Men's Room sign behind her and not in front of her. "That lying piece of-"

She bit her lip. "Van Pelt, go outside, do NOT let Patrick Jane walk or drive away! Shoot him if you have to."

Leaving a stunned redhead in her wake she rushed towards the door Jane had gone through, flashing her badge to the befuddled waitress at the counter in the process. She pushed the fire exit open and drew her weapon as she saw Jane hurriedly attempt to push empty cardboard boxes and trash cans out of his way to gain entrance into an alley. Hearing the door behind him swing open and the cocking of a gun he stopped what he was doing and put his hands up, dropping his head, "Teresa?" he asked quietly, closing his eyes in annoyance.

"Wow, maybe you really are psychic after all," she replied, her voice thick with sarcasm and irritation. "By the way I think you better call me Agent Lisbon from now on."

He turned around, his hands still up. He raked his eyes over her appearance and then saw nothing but her gun and her glare. He shot her a crooked smile. "You really should get this place closed down. Isn't it illegal to block a fire exit like this?"

She lowered and put away her weapon with an eye roll and took her handcuffs out instead, his eyes widening as she came towards him with them. "Now," she said with a sigh as she took his hands roughly and snapped the cuffs onto his wrists, "do you actually have somewhere for us to look for Paul Henson or was that fake call you put into headquarters your only bluff of the evening?"

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you all for your lovely reviews for the last chapter. I am so sorry I haven't replied to them and I will really try harder to do so. I am so grateful for everyone still reading my fics and even more those who choose to take the time to place reviews. The good ones really do brighten my days that have been a bit dark of late. This chapter may not have had the answers (or questions from Jane) that some of you would like but please have patience my friends...**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Apologies for delay in updating this one, been working on Trust this past week as it gets to a meaty point in the story where I needed to focus on it solely, hard to keep my train of thought going sometimes when I dip in and out of different stories. A bit of light relief with this chapter of this one. It's short but I hope sweet. As I feel I've shortchanged you I'll work on next chapter over the weekend so not too long a wait until next update. And thanks again for all the lovely reviews and new followers to this story.**

* * *

Chapter 8 - A Lead

Wide eyed he stared at the cufflinks on his wrists. "You're arresting me?" he asked incredulously.

"Haven't decided yet," a thoroughly annoyed Lisbon replied. "But I wanted to make sure I had your full attention."

"There were other ways you could have done that," he responded under his breath as he fiddled with his cuffs to make them more comfortable. He looked back up at her as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"What the hell, Patrick?! Is that what I am to you now? A mark like everyone else? I thought..." Her words trailed off and she shook her head.

"You thought what?" he frowned.

She puffed out a breath. "Doesn't matter," she snapped. "So, do you have any credible information or was that whole spectacle back there just so you could make a quick exit?"

He read her quickly. Saw the personal reason behind her temper. Behind the anger there was hurt. Softly, "Teresa...just because I wanted a head start doesn't mean I wasn't interested in knowing what's going on in your life now. You have to know that conversation was more than me just buying some time until you got that tip off."

"Do I? Because-"

Her cell phone buzzed on the inside pocket of her leather jacket. She answered it as she continued to stare at him, afraid if she took her eyes off him for a second he'd run off again. Gruffly, "Lisbon."

After listening to the other side of the conversation she answered, "Okay, we'll check it out. Thanks, Cho."

As she put the phone back in her pocket he told her, "You have a lead, don't you?"

She arched an eyebrow. "You think I'm going to tell you that?"

"You already did. It's obvious from your posture that you have something solid." He paused for a moment as he read the situation and made the best he could of it. "He's at his cousin's cabin, isn't he?"

Before she said a word he nodded, "Yes, that's what the call was about. His car was seen there. Damn, I should have gone there first than spent my time wasting it on checking hotels."

She rolled her eyes and pulled on his right arm roughly. "Yeah, you should have. And stop reading me," she barked.

"That's like telling me not to breathe," he muttered as she dragged him through the diner.

"That can always be arranged too," she mumbled.

The waitress' eyebrows hit her forehead as they crashed through the door to the front of the restaurant. Jane waved at her through a cuffed hand as they passed her. "Lovely tea, thank you," he smiled as Lisbon bundled him out the entrance onto the street where Van Pelt was waiting for them.

The young agent regarded the scene in front of her with the same expression the waitress wore. She'd only been on the team a couple of weeks and knew her boss had a fierce reputation but had never seen her quite so annoyed. Or flustered. Up to now she'd witnessed her handle any occasion or arrest in her stride but this man had well and truly got under her skin.

"Hello again. Grace, isn't it?" Jane smiled effortlessly at the redhead who was standing with her mouth open.

"What'd he do?" Van Pelt asked her boss.

"That's a very good question," Jane interjected. "Why exactly am I being manhandled, Agent Lisbon?"

Lisbon ignored Jane and spoke to Van Pelt. "He tried to run after giving us a false tip. Ignore that last call from Rigsby."

As Van Pelt nodded slowly Jane interrupted again. "And how do you know it's a false tip?"

Lisbon turned to him, "Because if it was a real one you wouldn't have told us about it."

He shrugged noncommittally. "You have no evidence of that. In fact...there's really nothing you can charge me with so..." he looked to his handcuffs then back up to her face, "if you couldn't mind?"

"You're crazy if you think I'm taking those off you," she responded. "Your car is faster, you'll be there before us." She lowered her tone, pleaded with him with her eyes, "I'm doing what's best for you. You're just too pigheaded to see it."

His expression changed from one of faint amusement to annoyance. "I don't need you to do what's best for me. I need to see him and you know I'll stop at nothing until I do."

He paused, softened his tone, "What if I promise I only wanted to talk to him? I just need to know, Teresa. I need to look that man in the eyes and know if he was the one who killed Melissa."

She wasn't entirely sure she was buying his sudden talk of only wanting to have a conversation with Paul Henson but she put that to the back of her mind for the moment. She took a breath and nodded, realising that one way or another he was bound to track him down. He may not even be at this cabin after all but Jane likely would know of another place he might be before they could find it. And she couldn't keep surveillance on him 24/7. And, unfortunately, he was correct. She really had nothing she could arrest him for that he couldn't buy or talk his way out of in five minutes. And get herself reprimanded at the same time for wasting valuable resources on a menial arrest. Also, if Jane did manage to find him on his own, there was no knowing what his reaction would be. At least this way she could control him from reacting rashly. A headache formed and she closed her eyes.

Finally she regarded him with a steely gaze. "Okay. Here's how it's going to work. You can...you can accompany us to the cabin but if he is there you go nowhere near it until we check it out first, make sure it's safe. If he did murder your wife-"

"He did," he asserted.

She took a deep breath to maintain her composure. " _If_ he did murder her then he's a dangerous man. So once we've taken him into custody-"

"No," Jane told her. "If he's there I talk to him there and then. Before he lawyers up and I can't get anywhere near him."

She figured he wouldn't go for her opening gambit but had to give it a shot.

"Fine. If he's there you can talk to him. Briefly. And under our supervision."

"Deal," Jane replied after a second's hesitation, a hint of a knowing smile on his lips as the word came out.

Lisbon nodded, blushing slightly, as she recalled the first 'deal' they ever made too and what that had transpired into after it was made.

* * *

Jane rubbed his wrists after Lisbon removed his cuffs as he sat in the back of the SUV. Van Pelt drove, Lisbon at her side. "I could have taken my own car and met you there," he proposed.

"You must think I'm an idiot," Lisbon huffed from the front seat. "You'd be there doing god knows what before we got near there."

Van Pelt looked sideways at her questioningly.

"I've always held up my side of any deal, Teresa," he said from the backseat, humour in his voice again. "You know that better than anyone."

Lisbon flushed furiously as she saw Van Pelt steal another glance. He was only back in her life a couple of days and he was already turning it upside down.

He continued, "Grace has already worked out we know each other. The others too, I suspect. There's no point trying to hide that fact any longer." He leaned forward and shifted slightly to get a better look at Van Pelt's face to get his confirmation. She was staring ahead wearing an expression mid way between fear and mortification, afraid to enter into the conversation. "Yep. Your team have discussed it. They know we have...history, as they say."

Lisbon raised her eyes skywards. She knew what he was doing. Using humour (and mostly at her expense) to stop him facing the pain of his grief. He'd always hidden behind a smile and she expected that side to his personality had only grown over the years. He was candid when he spoke to her privately but now he had an audience he couldn't help himself try to put on a show.

"What do you know about this cabin?" she asked to get the conversation away from her personal life.

Jane leaned back in the seat and sighed. "Not much. Never been there obviously. It was where they went sometimes. In the beginning. Before they started meeting in hotels. His cousin lives out of state, only uses it in the summer months. It's out of the way, remote. How was his car tracked there?"

"Ranger saw a light on and knew it was unoccupied. Realised it wasn't his cousin's vehicle and checked it out. Saw the BOLO out on it. Called us in."

"Hmm. Interesting," Jane remarked.

"Not really," Lisbon responded. "Lucky break, we get them sometimes."

"Hmm," Jane repeated.

Lisbon turned in her seat to face him. "What are you getting at?"

Innocently, "Me? Nothing. Like you said, lucky break."

She frowned at him for a moment before turning back in her seat, her instincts kicking in that he was withholding something once again. "How long until we get there?" she asked Van Pelt.

"About an hour."

"In that case think I'll take a nap, ladies," Jane yawned as he leaned his head against the side window of the car. "Wake me up when we get there."

* * *

When she was as sure as she could be that he was asleep, Lisbon spoke quietly to Van Pelt. "Minelli knows that we knew each other before this case," she said, nodding to the back seat. "We dated. Briefly. In case you think it's some big secret you have to keep. It's not and you don't, Van Pelt."

A little more comfortable now Lisbon had brought up the topic she whispered back, "But how? You don't believe in that psychic stuff!"

"It was a long time ago. A lifetime ago, really. It's no big deal. But...but I should have been honest with you guys from the outset too. There shouldn't be any secrets amongst us. We're a team, after all."

Van Pelt smiled as she overtook a car. "He seems like quite the character, can imagine he was quite the bad boy in his younger days."

"You have no idea."

"He's certainly keeping us on our toes now, that's for sure."

"Yeah, just make sure you check you still have your wallet on you if you stand too close to him," Lisbon smiled.

"You defaming my character again, Teresa?" he interrupted much to Lisbon's chagrin. "Have I missed any of the more interesting stories you're telling of our youth?"

"No and you keep your mouth shut about them," Lisbon replied.

"Or what?" he smiled.

"I don't know but you won't like it," she glared into the road ahead of her.

Van Pelt bit her bottom lip to withhold a smile. She had no real idea what Jane's marriage or Lisbon's relationship was like with their respective past and present partners but, although they'd only recently become reacquainted, they seemed to be bickering like her parents did who had been married for over thirty years.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 - Discovery

Van Pelt turned on the full beams of the vehicle as she made her way up a dirt track in pitch blackness. Silence had descended inside the SUV as they'd advanced closer to the cabin's location, the gloomy night affecting the mood inside. Lisbon checked the rear view mirror and humour had been replaced with thoughtful concentration in Jane's visage as he stared out the window to his side while twisting his gold band in a continuous loop. Eventually they came upon a clearing where a park ranger stood with his hands in his pockets against his vehicle, stubbing a cigarette out on the ground when they cut their engine. "That must be Ranger Metcalfe," Lisbon suggested.

They exited the vehicle, Jane stretching his arms out as he did so while Lisbon introduced herself and Van Pelt to the ranger. He'd hung back as he surveyed the area, the sound of crickets and the smell of pine pervading the air as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark and began to seek out the cabin. He just made out a light off a footpath to the far right where he guessed it was located.

As he was about to walk towards it by skirting around the two CBI Agents while they were busy with the ranger, Lisbon turned towards him and arched an eyebrow. He vaguely wondered if she had acquired eyes in the back of her head in the intervening years since he'd known her. She said nothing but her expression told him there was no way he was going anywhere alone. So he smiled sweetly at her instead as she walked back and opened the trunk beside him. Unaffected by his brief charm offensive she looked blankly at him and pulled out two bulletproof vests from the back of the SUV. She was clearly fully committed to her role as a CBI agent now as she concentrated on the task at hand than allow herself be distracted. As she handed one to Van Pelt and began to buckle up her own she said to him, "You stay here until we check things out."

"I can help. Let me go with you."

"Are you trained in combat? Weapons training of any sort?"

"Well, no-"

"Then the best way of helping me is if you stay here. Gives me one less thing to worry about."

He shrugged and bit the inside of his cheek. "Looks like I have no other choice," he grumbled. Then he observed her in her CBI vest, her weapon at her side as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail, readying for action. She had always been small in stature but determined too. But this was another level. Suddenly the nature of the career she'd chosen hit him along with the inherent risks that accompanied that choice. "Be careful, won't you?" he said quietly, his brow creased in concern. He felt that rush to protect her that he'd had from the first moment he met her and his heart, an organ he wasn't entirely sure he still possessed at times over the past ten years, contracted as if it had been restarted. Although he had to readily admit that she was obviously the one vastly more competent in protecting him now.

She smiled softly at him for a second, her hard shell cracking just a touch, "I'll be fine. This isn't my first rodeo, Patrick."

He smiled and nodded. "All the same, be safe."

She turned away and then swiftly turned back to him, nibbling on her bottom lip. She took his hand and he frowned as she laced her fingers through his. "Teresa?" he said, his voice a little high at this unexpected and somewhat intimate gesture. Wordlessly she pulled him towards the rear car door. He noticed Van Pelt and the ranger vanish from view as they rounded the vehicle away from them. He shook his head slightly, realising there was something wrong with this picture. He knew that she was certainly not going to kiss him under these circumstances. Or perhaps any, ever again. But his brain, as his eyes stared into hers, could not come up with any other explanation either. _Wishful thinking, Paddy_ , it unhelpfully supplied instead. It was only when he felt the cold metal against his right wrist his supposedly brilliant mind kicked in. Of course, the handcuffs once again. She put the other cuff around the door handle and stepped back. "Just in case you decide to be nosey."

He shook his head at her. "Really? Again? If I didn't know you better I'd think you have a fetish where those things are concerned."

Her blush earned her a raised eyebrow in return. She told him, "I'm just trying to keep you honest."

"Yeah, might be a little late for that, I expect."

"It's never too late for that," she replied quickly and assuredly. "Okay, if he's in there I'll come get you. Then I'll let you talk to him as agreed."

* * *

Curtains covered the windows of the wooded cabin but a light was visible inside as Lisbon and Van Pelt approached it with flashlights lowered, the ranger walking a safe distance behind them. They veered past Paul Henson's car and took the two wooden steps to the porch that led to the front door. They drew their weapons and motioned the ranger to stay back. Lisbon nodded to Van Pelt who stood at the side of the door with her gun raised as she knocked on the door.

Silence ensued as they listened for any noise from inside. Lisbon shook her head and knocked again. "Mr Henson, we're with the CBI. We need to talk to you. Open the door."

Stillness greeted her once again.

Having already received permission from his cousin to enter the property Lisbon tried one last time. "We're coming in unless you open this door right now!"

No response.

Lisbon holstered her weapon and backed up from the door. She shook her shoulders and head as she readied herself to pummel into it. Van Pelt arrived at her side, weapon at the ready. They nodded to each other just as Lisbon's right foot crashed against the middle of the door, the sound of breaking wood echoing the calm. One swift kick later the door flew open and smashed against the inside wall with a loud thud.

"Oh god," Lisbon breathed when she saw what lay inside.

* * *

Jane watched as the others filed up the path to his right towards the cabin. He heard Lisbon's raised voice presumably demanding entry followed by an almighty bang as he surmised she broke the door down when she wasn't granted it. Then nothing. No shouting from inside, or any sound of gunfire or other raised voices. He waited for her return. Checked his watch. Waited another minute. His patience exhausted quickly he shook his head. "I did try to behave myself but you should have remembered I can pick locks, Teresa," he muttered under his breath as he retrieved a staple with his free hand that he kept in his wallet for just such a purpose. It was difficult to see in the dark but eventually he found the locking mechanism against his wrist. A few well versed turns later he heard the satisfactory click he was looking for. Leaving the cuffs attached to the door handle he brushed down his suit jacket and walked towards the cabin. As he approached it he frowned as he saw Lisbon outside on her phone, talking frantically as she paced back and forth across the porch in front of the entrance, a hand to her forehead as she rubbed her temple. Van Pelt was talking to the ranger beside Henson's car and taking notes. Then the redhead noticed him appear out of the corner of her eye and excused herself from the conversation. "Mr Jane, what...you need to stay back," she said, placing her palms up to stop him taking another step towards the cabin.

"Of course," he nodded. Van Pelt relaxed and smiled and she took a step away again back towards the ranger. "Thank you, Agent Lisbon will speak to you in a moment-"

Jane swiftly slipped through the space she'd made. "Mr Jane!"

Lisbon heard the commotion as Jane stepped on the bottom step. Confused she quickly said to the person on the other end of the phone, "I'll expect them soon. Can I call you back?" and hurriedly put her phone away.

"Wait," she said to him, "how did you-?" She frowned. A second later, "You picked the lock," she confirmed.

"Just as well I'd say. Looks like I'd still be waiting if I was waiting for you to come get me."

Softly, "Patrick, wait a minute-"

"Is he in there?" he barked, pointing to the door behind her.

"Yes, but-"

"Then we had a deal," he shot back with as he marched toward the door that lay on its hinges, brushing past her. She closed her eyes briefly and caught up with him a moment later as he stared inside the cabin.

A red smiley face was the first thing he saw on the wall opposite the door. A metal bed frame sat to its left, the gutted remains of Paul Henson lying on it.

"You don't need to see this," she said at his side. "Not again this week." Ignoring her he walked inside, his eyes fixed to the face on the wall until he turned them towards his wife's lover's lifeless corpse.

He shook his head slowly as he stared at the body on the bed. Terrified eyes stared back at him, frozen in time. He tried to take a breath but he couldn't quite catch it and his breathing quickened.

Then he saw his wife's body instead of Henson's when he blinked.

Then Henson.

Then Melissa again.

Two gruesome pictures cycling through his head. Then he felt something warm touch his hand. Some heat amidst the coldness that had suddenly permeated him. Lisbon's hand on his as she gently pulled him away. "Patrick, you're going into shock again. Let's get you outside."

* * *

The next thing he was aware of was a blanket being placed around his shoulders as he shivered in front of a lake at the side of the cabin. A cup of hot black coffee placed in his hands. "It's just from a flask but it'll have to do," Lisbon said at his side. "Should warm you up a little."

He grasped the sides of the plastic cup and took a sip, grimacing at the bitter taste. "This is terrible," he said, his voice weak.

She laughed softly. "I was worried about you there for a while. Couldn't get a word out of you. You okay, feeling better?"

He shrugged. "Two dead bodies in under a week. I know for you that's probably a slow week but for me it's a record."

He became aware of squad cars behind them, cops and forensic techs milling about. "When did they arrive?"

"Not long ago."

"Sorry," he said. "You need to talk to them and I'm holding you back. I'm fine now. You go ahead."

"In a minute."

He mused he really must look fragile. He pulled a semblance of himself back together again. "That was him in there, wasn't it? Red John. The real one."

"Yes," she replied, pursing her lips and pulling her jacket around her.

"Why?"

Her eyes stared ahead of her. "He doesn't appreciate being copied, I guess," she shrugged.

Jane huffed beside her. "Sounds like quite the narcissist."

"That's one of the better things he is," she sighed.

"I imagine he wouldn't have appreciated my talking about him either."

"I certainly wouldn't suggest you repeat it."

"So why didn't he come after me too?"

"I don't know. Because...because you lost your wife that night already. Maybe he thought you'd been punished enough."

He raised an eyebrow. "He hardly appears to be the kind of man who'd be lenient in these matters, Teresa."

"Who knows then but I think...I think if he was intending to punish you further he'd have already gone through with it."

A brief chuckle escaped his lips. "Is that supposed to sound heartening?"

She smiled sadly in return. "Look, if you're worried we can assign you a couple of officers, keep an eye on you-"

He waved her concern off. "Don't worry about it. If I feel I need extra security I can hire them myself. Like you said, if he was going to do something he probably would have already carried it out."

She paused and swallowed before she spoke softly. "Patrick, there were scratches on Henson's left cheek. Not consistent with a knife wound. More like-"

"Melissa's nail marks," he finished for her. He laughed humourlessly. "At least all those expensive manicures weren't for nothing. I'm glad she fought the bastard, didn't make it easy for him."

"We're checking DNA with forensics for a match but, yes, I'm confident we'll get one. Looks like you were right, Patrick. He murdered her."

He dropped his head, guilt running through him that he wasn't there to stop his wife being killed. And more guilt at what he'd been doing instead.

"The fact she's dead isn't your fault, Patrick. You need to stop blaming yourself."

"Yeah," he sighed, the word coming out in a long drawl as he shrugged. "This isn't quite the way I wanted this evening to go, though. Although maybe..."

He snorted, "Maybe I should be thankful of Red John doing the job for me."

Her expression hardened instantly. "The last thing you want to become involved in is some kind of personal relationship with Red John," she growled as she glared at him.

He frowned at her unanticipated outburst. "I wasn't serious, Teresa. It was a...bad joke, nothing else."

She nodded furiously, her whole demeanour unbearably tense. "There are some things you don't joke about and he's one of them, Patrick. And so much for you saying you only wanted to talk to Henson. I knew that was a load of bull."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Red John. You want to catch him."

She frowned back. "Of course I do. He's a serial killer and the biggest case we have-"

"No," he interrupted, shaking his head. "More than that. _You_ want to catch him. Quite obviously for more...personal reasons."

* * *

 **A/N: Hope I surprised a few of you with this chapter. Lots more to come.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hope you all had a lovely holiday season. This chapter is a little bit of a filler, I'm afraid, as I gradually return to writing after all the merriment of the past week. Better stuff to come so I hope you'll hang in there.**

 **Oh and thanks for all of you who told me you enjoyed my Christmas oneshot Serendipitous Saturation. Many of you seem to want more so I might well extend it to a few more chapters in the coming weeks.**

* * *

Chapter 10 – Dead Ends

"You're wrong," Lisbon replied immediately.

The faster than normal blink of her eyes told him otherwise. "You're lying to me. The question is why," he stated with conviction.

"I'm not," she pouted, inching a step away from him and glancing at the police officers milling around behind them. "Look, you were right earlier. I need to deal with this. I'll get someone to drive you back to your car when you're ready."

He put the Red John question to the back of his mind for now. Frowning, "Back to my car?"

She took a pace towards him again. "Patrick, it's over. You found him. Now you need to go home and...start dealing with this," she asserted softly.

When she was faced with silence she continued, "This has been your way to avoid it...this whole revenge angle. It's stopped you facing the reality-"

"I found her body, Teresa. I know what the reality is," he snapped. Less than a second later he said, "Sorry. I don't much like people feeling sorry for me, least of all you."

"It's fine," she replied gently. "And it's called compassion, not pity, Patrick," she added with just a touch of annoyance.

He nodded and took a breath, knowing she was right. That it was time to do what he should have been doing instead of chasing after his wife's murderer, that it was time to make arrangements for her burial and to start moving on. But he must have appeared perplexed in how to start when she ghosted her fingers over his hand and asked quietly, "You have people to help you with that, don't you?"

Her emerald irises quieted him momentarily. The old conman in him was sorely tempted to manipulate her into offering her help, knowing her compassionate nature would quash any doubts over the propriety of an ex girlfriend helping a recently widowed ex boyfriend with funeral arrangements if he asked for her assistance. He knew having her at his side over the next few days would make them pass easier and more palatably, and that by doing so he could selfishly extend their time together. A thought occurred to him that perhaps he even could pierce the veil of truth on the Red John issue. From experience in fleecing those captured by it grief (or perhaps in his case, more the perception of it, he was ashamed to admit) was a powerful stimulus in getting people to open up and reveal more than they wanted known.

He quickly surmised, though, that he hardly deserved peace in his life, not after entertaining that crudely calculating proposal of discovering Red John's personal connection to Teresa and certainly not after he allowed a would-be killer to bed his wife. His business was reading people and he'd let Melissa down due to his nonchalance in the matter. And Teresa Lisbon would serve as another distraction from facing that head on just like his obsessive search for Henson had. And as he stared back into those honest pools of jade he decided she made an altogether more dangerous and alluring one. A small voice inside his head added that perhaps he would be the one who might reveal more than he should under such close circumstances, too.

"Of course," he replied with a small smile. She narrowed her eyes slightly; enough disbelief in them to let him know his words hadn't convinced her entirely.

"People you can really talk to," she continued with earnestness, "not just..." She licked her lips, her words trailing off as she tried to think of another word for 'hangers on' or 'groupies'. It seemed his sleazebag of a manager had left a sour impression on her of his social circle. He wished he could argue the opposite was true.

"I do," he cut in, making his smile brighter to stop her worrying, lacing the fingers of her hand with his and squeezing them slightly before reluctantly releasing the warmth he'd felt from them for fear he wouldn't want to ever let go again if he held them too long. She continued to study him before a blush came to her cheeks, her eyes dropping to his lips for a fraction of a second before she looked away, shamefaced. It allowed him the chance to avert his eyes too; guilt ridden at the swirling emotions she was capable of stirring up in him so soon after his wife's death.

He noticed Minelli had arrived at the scene as he gazed behind her back along with the rest of her team, her superior's head bobbing around as soon as he exited his vehicle, obviously seeking out his lead agent. He nodded towards him. "Your boss is here."

She swung her head around and muttered, "Oh, crap!" before turning back to him. All trace of embarrassment and tenderness gone she said gruffly, "Let me talk to him, he's going to think I've lost my mind letting you anywhere near here."

Jane smiled at her ability to compartmentalise her emotions so well. Perhaps they weren't so different after all this time still. "Maybe I could help-"

Her glare stopped him in his tracks. "I'll wait right here," he said instead with another smile.

She thanked him with her eyes before she rolled them and marched off towards her boss.

* * *

Van Pelt caught up with Cho and Rigsby outside Henson's cousin's property. A Red John murder meant all hands on deck. "A real one this time?" Cho asked with a nod to the redhead as they surveyed the cabin.

"Definitely. Partridge and his techs just arrived just before you; they're going over the place now. Not that they'll find anything."

"What's he doing here?" Rigsby asked as he saw Lisbon and Jane talk by the lake beside the property. From what he could observe from the way they were looking at each other even from a distance it looked personal.

Van Pelt quickly filled her team mates in on Jane's antics earlier then confirmed the romantic history between their boss and the psychic and his presence at the crime scene.

"He has a way of getting what he wants, huh?" Rigsby proposed. "Even with the boss. He wanted to find Henson and he did."

"She didn't have much of a choice but to bring him along," Van Pelt argued.

"And he made sure she didn't," Cho said. "He's a hustler," he said evenly, confirming his point.

"So they were a big thing, huh?" Rigsby smiled at Van Pelt. "Who'd have thought?"

"Looks that way, despite the boss trying to play it down," Van Pelt smiled back. "He has a way of getting under her skin, that's for sure. And she seems to know all his tricks."

"Love strikes between the unlikeliest of people, eh?" Rigsby grinned, his smile widening when he noticed her blush.

Cho interjected brusquely, "Boss'll need to be careful if she entertains him for much longer. He's a hustler," he repeated curtly, dampening the burgeoning romance going on beside him.

* * *

Minelli shook his head as he viewed Jane's back a few feet away after Lisbon filled him in on the evening's action. After releasing a few expletives at Jane's shenanigans to ensure he stayed at the centre of the investigation his tone turned paternal. "How you holding up?" he asked, gesturing with his head towards the cabin with the red smiley face painted inside it.

"I'm fine, Virgil," she nodded. "Really," she nodded again with a smile.

"Okay. Good."

He cleared his throat and nodded towards Jane. "And how's he holding up?" Despite his bluster Minelli could be incredibly soft hearted at times, a quality only Lisbon and a select few were privy to. Now he knew Jane had no involvement in his wife's murder he was more inclined to give him a little slack.

"Okay now, I think. I'll get an officer to-"

She stopped talking and frowned suddenly. Minelli asked, "What is it, Lisbon?"

"Just something Patrick said on the way here," she replied, looking back towards Jane. Seemingly suddenly in tune with her thinking he turned towards her with a similar frown on his face and they locked eyes. He approached her and Minelli quickly, ignoring her boss and focusing on Lisbon.

Simultaneously she asked him, "Why did you think it was interesting that the ranger called us in?" while he asked her, "Where's the ranger who called you in?"

"Well one of you better answer," Minelli said after a second as he looked between the pair of them, their eyes set on each other.

Lisbon spoke first, addressing Jane and not her boss. "Van Pelt took a note of his details and sent him home. Why?"

Jane addressed her. "Why was he checking properties at this time of night?"

"He said he always performs a check on the cabins last thing."

"Oh. You believe him?"

She shrugged, "I didn't question him, Van Pelt did. Why, Patrick?"

"He didn't appear to me to be the overly vigilant type, that's all."

"You didn't even meet him properly, how on earth could you know that?"

Minelli stepped in, "Mr Jane, what are you getting at?"

Jane trailed his eyes from Lisbon to Minelli. "I thought it strange when I saw him at first but my mind was...on other matters," he said with a ping of regret. "His whole demeanour was lazy, unkempt. Not the kind of man who performs his job to the highest standards. Maybe he did once but not now since he's recently divorced or separated-"

Faced with a pair of increasingly bewildered faces he explained quickly, "Indentation on his finger where his wedding ring lay until lately, loose fitting uniform denoting recent weight loss, creased shirt, half attempt at a shave, he's taken up smoking again...I could go on-"

Lisbon furrowed her brow further, thinking back to the ranger's appearance. Disbelievingly, "You got all that in the space of what...a minute or two?"

He shrugged. "Well I was a somewhat distracted like I said so I was a little slower than usual. But that's not important. I think you should question him again over why he called you in, might be nothing but-"

"It might be something," she interrupted quietly, her teeth grazing her bottom lip in contemplation.

"You know I have good instincts, Teresa," he added with assurance when he saw the doubt in her face, her ponder whether this new 'theory' was another obstacle in confronting his loss. "Check him out again. Please."

"Okay," she said after a moment. Minelli's eyebrows hit his hairline but he couldn't help but be curious himself. Jane was convincing in putting across a point, he had to give him that. He absently wondered if that was an asset or a liability. Both, depending on the circumstances, he quickly concluded. But in this case it would do no harm to follow through.

Lisbon was already on her phone to the ranger, moving a couple of steps away from them to make the call. It gave Minelli the time to study Jane more closely as she talked beside them. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said finally to the younger man, for want of something else to say.

"Now that you know I didn't do it," Jane replied calmly, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Well you didn't make it easy for me to believe you were innocent."

"True," he replied with a shrug.

"So...you're a psychic then?" Minelli smirked.

"Charlatan," Jane confirmed, surprising the older man with his honesty who chuckled briefly before he caught sight of Lisbon hanging up. "Well?" he asked her, all humour gone in an instant.

"You were right," she said to Jane before talking to Minelli. "He got a call to the ranger's office telling him to check out that cabin. Anonymous, of course. I'll get Van Pelt to see if she can get a trace on it."

* * *

Lisbon caught up with Jane as he sat on a log beside the lake, his gaze set on the soft orange rays in front of him as they began their daily ascent through the morning grey. She sighed loudly as she took a seat alongside him, the night's events taking their toll on her body.

"Dead end," he said before she spoke.

She nodded and pulled her jacket around her. "Burner cell, untraceable."

"Call came from Red John presumably. Sorry. I thought...I thought it might have meant something."

"It did. Just didn't pan out like we hoped. Red John's too careful to be caught using a cellphone that could be traced. But you were right about the ranger. He hasn't been performing his nightly checks of late due to his wife leaving him. He didn't mention the call until he was pushed in case that came to light. That was...impressive reading, Patrick. I'd...I'd forgotten how good you were at that."

He shrugged, "Meh, that was easy." He turned his head towards her, her pale visage illuminated by the golden hues of morning, her foundation faded so her freckles caught his eyes. The image immediately returned his mind to the first and only morning he'd woken up beside her. "God, you're breathtaking still," he said softly before he could stop the words.

She reddened and swallowed, keeping her gaze set in front of her. She laughed off the compliment, "Nah, you're just sleep deprived."

He laughed softly and turned back to the still water in front of them with a deep breath. "Well, it could be that, too," he agreed to stop her and his own embarrassment at his inappropriate faux pas.

Gently, "Patrick, Officer Reynolds is ready to drive you back to your car when you are."

He nodded and raised himself from the log, stretching his back and sighing wearily, knowing he had more than outstayed his welcome. "Okay. Thank you."

As they reached the black and white she said, "I'll be in touch when we have the forensics report on Henson. Then Melissa's remains will be able to be released to you."

"All right," he said. "I'll start making arrangements."

"You know what she would have wanted?"

He shrugged, "Not really...we never talked about it and she wasn't especially religious. But her grandmother was buried in Alexandria cemetery in Sacramento so perhaps there...she always seemed to get a sense of peace when she visited her grave."

"Sounds like a nice spot," Lisbon smiled.

As she saw him to the passenger door he said, "Uh...thank you, Teresa. For...-"

"Being on your case?" she smirked.

Seriously, "For being in my life again. It's...it's meant a lot to me these past couple of days."

"It's good to have seen you again too, Patrick."

"Even if I've caused you nothing but trouble since I've come back into your life again?" he smiled.

She grinned. "Well, you've provided me with some challenges, I'll give you that," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Last thing I'd ever want is to be boring company, Teresa."

"Well, as usual you didn't disappoint on that score," she smiled. An officer called for her attention. Softly, "Sorry, I have to get back. I'll call you soon. Take care."

As he watched her walk away he exhaled slowly. "You too," he said quietly.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: No Lisbon in this chapter I'm afraid but I hope you like it anyway! And thanks to all of you who've earned this story over 300 reviews so far. I'm so pleased you're enjoying it. I'm having a blast writing it.**

* * *

Chapter 11 - Introspection

Jane settled himself in his favourite leather armchair in his home office with a heavy sigh, exhausted after the long drive home from the Red John crime scene he'd witnessed. Before he left Sacramento he'd visited a Funeral Director and made arrangements for Melissa's burial. The gentleman in charge, a tall waif of a man with grey eyes to match his grey hair had greeted him with the sombreness he expected, his handshake stiff and well practiced to those in the first throes of grief. He'd patted Jane's hand with his left one as they shook hands, professional sympathy firmly in place as he looked into his eyes with a consoling nod. Jane had played along for the other man's benefit at first; performing as the widower he supposed he was now though the term sounded alien and all too respectful for his liking.

But by the time he'd left the premises the mortician's patience had run thin as talk turned to caskets and flower arrangements and Jane had snapped repeatedly at him to suggestions provided, instead his hand whipping through pages of well worn display books to find the most expensive but least garish items. Much to Jane's morbid amusement he found the entire experience both surreal and ridiculous. Melissa was dead and no amount of lilies and mahogany coffins would make it otherwise. Childish, he knew, and unnecessary too to rattle the older man but he couldn't help himself pierce the pompous facade put on show in front of him. He'd done much worse in his life up to now, after all, he reasoned to himself.

Now sitting in the room with its wood panelled walls lined with bookshelves and a solid oak desk at its centre he realised this room had been his sanctuary more and more as the years had passed, a place where he could escape the sham of the marriage he had. This was purely his space where no mementos of Melissa were present, not even a picture frame with her photograph in it at his desk. The rest of their home was decorated with soft furnishings and home ware chosen by her and bombarded him at every turn. Here there were no such reminders, just silence diluted with the sound of the ocean in the distance. He checked his watch and saw both hands sat around two. Too early for a Scotch he told himself as he eyed the half empty bottle on a shelf to his right, mostly drunk by his agent when he visited to arrange his diary. Though he was never one to find refuge in the bottle, the appeal of an alcohol induced haze lost on him. The few times he'd succumbed to it only served to reduce the sharpness of his mind and for a man who needed constant control over his emotions it had only left him feeling more exposed than comforted. Besides, he was so used to living with his demons by now he sincerely doubted alcohol could provide escape from another one joining them.

So instead he closed his eyes and shifted his body further into the deep cool leather, too lazy to move to the battered leather couch at the other end of the room, his usual spot to take forty winks if he was home during the day. Less than five seconds later the phone on his desk sounded. He grunted as he opened his eyes again, leaning forward to pick up the receiver. It was only when it was in his hand he noticed the fourteen answer phone messages blinking in red beside it.

"Paddy, where the hell have you been?" his agent barked down the phone.

Jane rolled his eyes and eyed the bottle of Scotch again, immediately thinking a drink might not be such a bad idea after all. Eddie Larson's high pitched and panicked voice sounded like nails down a blackboard to him and he could picture him, red faced and sweaty on the other end.

"If you don't recall, Eddie, my wife was just murdered a couple of days ago," Jane bit back. "I had things to do. What do you want?"

Larson swallowed nervously on the other end. His tone turned low and sympathetic. "Right...right...of course. How you holding up?"

Jane smiled and leaned back in his chair, placing his feet on his desk. Larson was a hell of an agent but a terrible actor. Ignoring his feeble attempt at what he supposed was compassion he asked again, "What do you want, Eddie?"

"Have you heard the news about Paul Henson? Word is that that serial killer Red John-"

"Yeah, I heard. What of it?"

A moment's silence on the other end followed by a short chuckle. "How'd you hear? That little feisty cop lady tell you? You know I think she's a little sweet on you, Paddy. She's a little pushy for my liking but I reckon you could-"

"Jesus, Eddie, if you don't get the point I'm hanging up. And don't talk about her like that. Or any other woman, come to that, when you're talking to me."

"Jeez, who rattled your cage? Okay, okay. Press are all over this. They want a statement from you. Especially with this Red John angle now too. A few TV spots, full page magazine spreads...I know it's terrible what happened to Melissa...a real tragedy...but life goes on, you know and..."

Jane exhaled as he listened to his agent try to turn the death of his wife into a public interest story, trying to keep his temper in check. As he droned on and on about five figure sums and how her murder could open up a whole new career path for him Jane closed his eyes again, allowing the words to wash over him. His anger dissipated slowly as he continued to listen to the other man. He could hardly fault his agent for taking advantage of the situation he'd been handed, in his place he'd most probably do the same. He'd come close enough and had barely batted an eyelid cheating recent widows out of their life savings. And Larson knew their marriage was a disaster and that Jane would hardly be heartbroken. It wasn't as if she was ever the love of his life.

An image of a teenage Teresa Lisbon immediately flashed through his mind, their last conversation before they'd left each other and the parting gift she'd handed him. No longer listening to his agent he opened a drawer in his desk and fumbled inside until he felt the object he was looking for. He pulled out the Saint Christopher medal and held it up to the light, turning it between two of his fingers and making it appear and disappear in his hand. She'd given it to him to remind him there was a good person inside him. He'd pretty much proved the opposite was true in how he'd lived his life since then. He'd long stopped carrying the medal around with him as it only served to remind him of that fact.

He wondered, was it too late to change the person he was now?

"No," he heard himself say to Larson, cutting him off mid flow.

"No? No to what?" he replied. "Which offer, I mean?"

"All of them."

Silence greeted him and Jane smiled in return, a small piece of his heart warming at the other man's reaction.

"All of them? Look, Paddy, I understand...this is a testing time for you...but-"

"I'm not going to profit from her death, Eddie," Jane said resolutely.

"You're...you're not...You'd be helping people, Patrick. Hearing your story will resonate with those who've lost spouses-"

"Oh please, Eddie. Give me some credit, will you? You know damn well Melissa and I were not in love with each other. We barely tolerated each other by the end. Stop trying to sell me the crap I come up with myself."

A heavy sigh reverberated on the other end. "Fine. I'll leave it for now. Maybe after the funeral-"

"I won't change my mind. And just in case some photographers happen to be at it, purely by accident, of course, you'll be fired if one photo appears of me beside a gravesite after it. Do I make myself clear?"

Larson mumbled through gritted teeth, "Yes, crystal."

"Good. Then clear my calendar. I'll be in touch."

"Okay. How long do you want me to clear it for?" the disgruntled voice replied.

"Indefinitely."

As he heard his agent take a sharp intake of breath he slammed the phone down before he could hear his no doubt less than cheery response. Jane stretched his back and smiled as he looked at the medal still in his hand. "Well, that's a first step," he said to himself, feeling lighter than he had in years. He looked around the four walls surrounding him. "Now, what next?" he added quietly.

* * *

When he parked up his silver Porsche in the mud ridden clearing he absentmindedly thought he should have changed vehicles to something less conspicuous. At least the night gave him some cover so gawkers (or worse) would be less likely attracted to his car.

He gazed at the once familiar scene in front of him, a fire lit in the middle of a mismatched array of trailers and caravans, people in plastic folding chairs sat around it warming their hands. As he walked closer he heard them talking, laughing, arguing, all the sounds he'd grown up with. A wave of nostalgia hit him squarely and he stopped for a moment and listened while his presence remained undetected.

The trailer park in Carson Springs was as close he ever got to a hometown growing up. He'd come here on a spur of the moment decision to escape Malibu but now he wasn't so sure it was such a good idea. His car might not be the only thing lucky to escape unscathed. He'd left this world a decade ago and never looked back. He'd abandoned the relationships he'd made here for a life in showbiz. Some were necessary where he had no regrets. But others...others...

"You going to stand there all night or you going to grow a pair and say hello," a booming voice said at his side.

He turned around with a start and a grinning Pete Barosky laughed in his face. "Well, well, well. The Boy Wonder returns. Took you long enough, Patrick."

Jane smiled at his old friend, more of a father figure than his own dad ever was and puffed out a breath in relief. "Pete," he replied with another smile, "since when can a guy your size creep up on people?"

"When those people are deciding whether or not they're too chicken to face me after ten years," Pete replied quickly, his tone more serious but still with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Touché," Jane said with a shrug.

Pete chuckled again and came closer until he stood opposite Jane. For a second Jane prepared himself for a punch in the face. But instead, without warning, the bigger man engulfed him in a bear hug that took the air from his lungs. Jane reciprocated as best he could although his feet were dangerously close to being lifted off the ground. Afterwards Pete took a step back while he allowed Jane to regain his breath then looked him up and down appraisingly. Finally he shook his head at the younger man. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Jane laughed and brushed down his silver satin suit, fixing his pale blue tie. He hadn't even thought to change his attire so hastily had he made the decision to revisit his old friends. "You don't like my style?" he grinned before pointing to Pete who was wearing a beer stained white vest with a pair of suspenders holding up well worn brown trousers. "And since when are you the fashion police?"

"Hey, this is a classical style, Patrick. People have been wearing what I wear for years."

"What you mean is that _you've_ been wearing it for years," Jane responded with a smile.

"Better that than look like an idiot like you in that get up," Pete came back with immediately.

A second later Pete's expression turned solemn. Quietly, "I saw the news. Heard about your wife. How you doing, Patrick? Me and Sam were hoping you'd stop by."

Jane sighed and allowed his guard to fall in the presence of his friend. "To be honest, Pete. I haven't got a clue how the hell I am."

Pete nodded and squeezed his shoulder. "Come on, Sam will be pleased to see you. She's made her famous rabbit stew."

* * *

He was lambasted then hugged tightly by Sam when Pete brought him inside their trailer. She quickly dished up three bowls of stew as they sat around the table. Jane removed his tie and jacket so looked more like the teenager they'd known in his white open necked white shirt. It just happened to cost about four hundred dollars more than the ones he used to wear when he performed as 'Boy Wonder'. For a few minutes they ate silently and enthusiastically, dipping homemade bread into the gravy as they did so.

"I'd forgotten how good this was," Jane enthused, breaking off another piece of bread from the loaf in the centre of the table. "You should market this recipe, Sam."

Sam raised an eyebrow in response. "Not the only thing you've forgotten about for years." While it was obvious she was pleased to see him again Jane saw the hurt in her eyes too that it had taken a tragic event in his life to reconnect with them again.

"Sam," Pete scolded his wife quietly. "Cut him some slack, he's just lost his wife."

"It's okay," Jane said at once. He put his spoon back in his bowl and looked at them both. "I'm sorry...I...needed to break away-"

"We were never against that, Patrick," Sam interrupted. "You finding your own path. But..." Her words trailed off and she got off the seat as she averted her eyes. She began to wash the dishes with her back to them so they wouldn't see the tears in them.

Pete shrugged to Jane. "Women, eh?" he smiled, nudging him on the shoulder with his own.

"Yeah," Jane nodded with a sigh and a feeble attempt at a smile. He looked over at the woman furiously scrubbing a pot and bit his lip. "Mind giving us a minute?" he asked Pete softly.

"You sure? She has a hell of a right hook if you don't say the right things."

"Then I better make sure I say the right things," Jane smiled.

"Yeah, you better," Pete said as he glanced at his wife and then Jane again with a new firmness in his expression.

* * *

After Pete excused himself to feed Daisy Jane brought the empty bowls to the sink and picked up a cloth to dry the dishes. For a few seconds neither of them spoke as she handed items to him to dry. "I know I should have visited," Jane said finally. "I said I would when I left but-"

"You got caught up in the razzamatazz. I understand that, Patrick."

"So then why are you giving me such a hard time, Sam?"

She let go of a breath and faced him. "You know Pete and I never had kids. Well...you felt like..." She shrugged and planted a smile on her face. "You're right. I shouldn't be mad at you for making your way in the world. I'm proud of you for that, I really am-"

"I wouldn't be so proud if I were you," he said with a sigh. She looked at him quizzically and he explained, "I've done some terrible things, Sam, since I left. Conned, swindled people-"

"You did all that when you worked here, what's the difference?"

He smiled and chuckled softly before he looked down. "The difference was then I could blame my father. But when I left I turned right into him."

"I'm sure that's not true," Sam said quietly, touching his arm.

He whipped his head up and locked eyes with her. "Believe me, it is. I was just more successful at it than he ever was. I think that's...well that's partly why I never visited. It was easier that way so I didn't have to be reminded of where I came from."

He saw the hurt in her eyes again and added, "I'm not saying it was all bad. You and Pete...if I hadn't had you in my life back then I don't know how I'd have coped at all. Especially after-"

"That little girl broke your heart," Sam finished for him.

Jane exhaled a long breath and shook his head. "You remember that, huh?"

"Hardly likely to forget it. But I wouldn't say we were of much use to you after that as much as we tried to get through to you. You were a pain in the ass moping for a whole month after we left Chicago. Couldn't get two words out of you. You just came here, ate your food, gave us a few bucks and left. Your father was in his element, though, never seen you graft so hard for him."

She frowned, "You know, thinking about it now you were different after that. That's when you really started to drift away from us. Before you left." A single hollow laugh escaped her. "Huh, never really thought about it like that before now. Imagine that."

Jane nodded, conceding she was right. He'd never considered splitting up with Teresa and turning his back on Sam and Pete were linked events until this point either. He'd become withdrawn from them after he left her in Chicago, the closest people to him, telling himself he had to work harder to escape his father's influence as soon as possible and spent less and less time with them to make that happen. He forewent any type of personal relationships to attain that goal. Including the one he had with his two oldest friends. Having his heart broken almost destroyed him and he hardened himself against ever feeling pain like that in his life again. In turn his other emotions followed suit. Whether it was falling in love or relying on other people he'd made sure he was purely self sufficient from that point on.

"I'm sorry," he said to Sam again with absolute sincerity.

She nodded and flashed a smile in his direction, evidently pleased that she saw some sort of revelation in his visage. "Let's leave it in the past. I'm too old to bear grudges."

He encased her in a hug and kissed her cheek. "You know we're not that far apart age wise," he chuckled as he released her.

"Yeah, but I'm a damn sight more mature than you ever were."

"Can't deny that."

She gestured for them to sit at the table again. Jane was pleased to find less tension prevalent in the air this time. "So, Patrick," she started with genuine interest, "tell me all about Melissa."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 - Goodbye

"So, you two friends again?" Pete said as he looked from his wife to Jane and back again, poking his head into the trailer. When he saw that Sam had plated up cookies to go with the tea they were drinking he smiled, realising a detente had been reached.

"We were never _not_ friends," Sam replied with an accusing tilt of her chin towards her husband. He shook his head and rolled his eyes at Jane who smiled into the tea in front of him.

"Like I said before, women," he added in a mutter with a chuckle. A second later he stretched his burly arms out and yawned.

"I should be getting back home," Jane said, checking his watch and realising it was past midnight. He'd got so caught up in laying his troubles out in front of Sam he'd lost track of the time.

"Why don't you stay the night, Patrick?" Pete said, nodding to the fold out couch in the trailer. "It's a hell of a drive back to Malibu."

Jane looked at the sofa he'd spent many nights on growing up when his father had locked him out of their own. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Since when?" Pete chuckled. More seriously, "Come on, you're family. Besides means you can give me a hand with Daisy in the morning. Just like old times."

Jane hesitated for a second so Sam added with a smirk, "What? Our place not good enough for you now, big shot?"

"Yeah, he probably doesn't want to ruin that shiny suit of his with elephant dung come morning," her husband added.

Jane looked at the pair of them and his heart swelled with affection that they hadn't given him the cold shoulder he probably deserved after turning his back on them. "You still make waffles for breakfast?" he asked Sam with a smile.

* * *

The next morning, fortified by Sam's waffles, he strolled towards Daisy's enclosure to find Pete. He hadn't slept particularly well the night before and as his friend dropped a slice of bacon onto his plate the worry in the frown she'd shot him told him he looked like he hadn't too.

Being back in the place he'd grown up had unleashed dreams about his father that invaded nightmares of bloodied corpses and the clear blue lifeless eyes of his wife. He'd woken often; sweat sticking to him under the oversized T shirt Pete had provided him for the night. Only the sound of his larger friend's snores from the adjoining bedroom eventually lulled him back into slumber where the cycle started again. When awake and laying in the dark staring at the ceiling his thoughts often turned to Teresa Lisbon. It was still surreal that they'd met again at all after all these years, even more so under the circumstances in which it had occurred. He had never believed in any kind of fate or destiny, instead believing that people made their own luck in this life, but he couldn't shake off the notion that their paths were always meant to cross again.

Walking closer to the pen he saw Pete scrubbing Daisy's belly with a yard brush as the beast lay on its side for him.

"She's got big," he said as he came up right beside them.

"It happens," Pete replied, handing him a soap filled scrubbing brush. "You do her trunk. Make sure you get the dirt loosened before I hose her down."

"Worried I'm out of practice?" Jane asked, kneeling down to give the elephant an affectionate tickle of her ear and pat on her side before he got to work. Her big black eyes stared at him before blinking and he grinned as her tail swished in acknowledgement. "Remember me sweetheart, do you?" he smiled at her.

"Less talking, more working," Pete said standing up and stretching his back out, producing a cigarette from behind his ear. Jane looked at him questioningly and Pete laughed as he lit it and took a long draw. "You had dinner, bed and breakfast, way I see it you owe me. You know the rules here, Patrick," in faux seriousness.

"Never something for nothing. Course I remember. But I could just pay you for your hospitality with cash," Jane said in a laugh, scrubbing dried dirt from the creases in Daisy's trunk.

"But watching you do this instead is much more fun," Pete replied with a wink. "Besides getting your hands dirty is good for a man, especially one whose nails look more polished than my wife's."

Jane chuckled and continued, theorising that this was Pete's way of keeping his mind off more troubling thoughts. He had to admit it felt good, getting lost in manual labour for a few minutes. Not that he wanted a career out of it but he could understand where his large friend was coming from, trying to help him in his own way.

His cell phone signalled a call and he got to his feet to answer it, effectively ruining the pants of his suit when he rubbed grimy hands over them. Taking the phone out of his pocket he saw Lisbon's cell phone number staring back at him. He smiled and answered it.

"Good morning," he said in a soft tone.

"Hey," she replied, a slightly nervous lilt to her voice. "It's-"

"Teresa. I know. You gave me your number, remember?"

"Oh right. Yes...yes I did. How...how are things, Patrick?"

He glanced at his old friend who had stubbed out his cigarette and was turning on a hose beside him. Daisy read the signs and got to her feet, her trunk rising expectantly for the surge of water.

"Better," Jane said as he watched the elephant delight in having water sprayed all over her.

"That's good to hear," Lisbon remarked. He could imagine her shoulders relax as she let go of a breath of relief.

"You have news from the coroner," he stated. "That's why you called, I'm guessing."

"Yes. Well...and, of course, I wanted to see how you were as well."

"It was him? Henson?" he asked her without further preamble.

"Yes. Conclusive trace under her fingernails. And her DNA on him too."

He nodded and looked to his shoes. It wasn't like that confirmation wasn't expected but to have it told to him in such black and white terms that Melissa's killer had been positively identified robbed him of his speech momentarily. The last few days everything had happened so quickly. Finding his wife murdered, meeting Teresa again, tracking down the killer only to find a deranged serial killer had got to him first. The days had passed in a blur and he'd had no time to come to terms with any of it just yet. Instead he'd run off adrenaline, guilt and anger dappled with both the occasional comfort and the no nonsense determination of a smart beautiful woman he used to know.

"Patrick, you okay?" the aforementioned woman asked softly when he didn't respond immediately.

"Yeah," he replied finally, clearing his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. So, that means her body can be released?" he asked evenly, using pragmatism as a way of distracting himself from every other unfocused and unfettered thought currently running through his brain.

"Yes. Have you made any arrangements for her yet?"

He told her he had and she murmured in agreement, promising to come to the funeral to pay her respects. "If you want me there, that is," she added, her cadence unmistakably nervous again.

"Why wouldn't I want you to be there?"

"Well...I didn't know her and..."

"But you know me. Or did. I'd like you to be there, Teresa," he told her. "There'll be few enough real people there for me to talk to."

"Okay," came the response on the other end of the phone. "Are you really doing better or did you just tell me that to stop me worrying about you?"

"You're worrying about me?" he said, a whisper of a smile on his lips.

"Of course I am, Patrick," she responded quietly.

Looking at the elephant in front of him he said, "I'm doing okay. I promise. In fact, right now I'm standing beside an old friend of yours."

A pause followed where he could picture her furrow her brow. "A friend of mine?"

"You remember Daisy?"

He heard the smile in her voice immediately. "You went to visit your old carnie friends?" Then a pause followed by more concern in her tone. "Or to see your father?"

"The former," he said.

"Right." Another pause where he guessed she was deciding upon whether to broach that subject or not. He was relieved by her next question. "How does she look?" she asked. "Does she still like apples?"

He chuckled. "Haven't bought one from Pete yet to find out."

"Well...give her one from me too when you do."

"It'll cost you a dollar. You sure you can afford that on civil service pay?"

She laughed a hearty chuckle that warmed him more than the midday sun. "I'm glad you seem to be doing okay and have friends around you right now."

He heard a male voice in the background seek her attention. "You have to go," he said before she did.

"Yeah, sorry, new case."

"Never stops, huh? Okay, I'll talk to you soon, Teresa."

When he hung up Pete looked at him, a question in his eyes. "I think there's something you forgot to mention in all this," his friend said to him.

* * *

"So she's a cop," Pete said with a shake of his head as they rested after finishing washing Daisy, bottles of water in their hands. Sitting on empty barrels Jane fed the elephant from a bag of apples between the two men.

"Yep, just like she always wanted to be," he replied.

"I'll try not to hold that against her too much," his friend chuckled. "Talk about kismet, huh?" he added.

"Mmm," Jane responded noncommittally.

As they held their faces up to the warming rays of the morning sun neither spoke for a moment. Then Pete said gently, "Be careful, Patrick."

Jane turned his head towards him and nodded for him to continue.

Pete sighed heavily and shifted his butt on the top of the barrel to face him. "I know your marriage was no picnic by the sound of it but don't rush into something else before you're ready."

"Pete, I haven't even buried my wife yet never mind thought about pursuing another woman."

His friend quirked an eyebrow. "So you haven't thought about Teresa in that way since you're seen her again, is that what you're telling me? You might be able to fool rich old ladies with that smooth tongue of yours but I've known you a long time, Patrick Jane. When someone or something gets under your skin you're relentless."

Jane kicked some dirt with his feet as he averted his eyes, sheepish and ashamed at the thoughts already running through his head in relation to Teresa. "You against it because she's a cop or because it's too soon?"

"Damn, Patrick, if she was goddamned attorney general I wouldn't give a damn if she made you happy. You know that. But yes, it's too soon, my boy. You need to get things straight in your own head first. She's special to you, always has been. Don't rush things too quickly or she just might slip through your fingers again."

* * *

He caught sight of her as he turned away from the grave in front of him after depositing a red rose on top of the casket. She was standing a few feet away in the shadow of a tree, her chestnut hair blowing to the left as a light breeze ruffled it. He hadn't seen her at the service or before then and had decided she'd stayed away, more than likely due to a case he surmised. She seemed more than a little obsessed with her job in the short time he'd known her again. He shot her a small nod of acknowledgement and solemnly took his seat in the front row of the graveyard service again.

After it was over he saw her hover in the distance as mourners approached him to shake his hand or hug him, her posture as skittish as a deer's, afraid to come closer and intrude. Apart from Sam and Pete who had insisted on coming to support him he felt nothing from anyone else's attempts to console him, every hug and handshake making him feel more like a fraud than ever. He was relieved he was so well versed in deception and removing himself emotionally from cons he'd taken part in that he could tweak his behaviour so his discomfort went unnoticed. This day wasn't about him and there were some people present who had been Melissa's friends and felt he owed her not to make a scene or appear boorish at the least. Although not all of her friends came with such pure intentions. Two of his wife's single friends had passed their numbers to him surreptitiously, offering their ear if he wanted to talk through the loss he was experiencing, their hugs and hands extending into uncomfortable territory. And the looks in their eyes told them it was an entirely different part of their anatomy they wanted to present to him instead.

After the crowd dispersed a little more he drew himself away from it and approached her.

"You came," he said.

"I'm sorry I was late-"

"Let me guess, a case?" he smiled.

"Sorry," she nodded, smiling back at him. "From what I saw it was a nice ceremony."

"Yeah," he shrugged. "So what's the case?"

She drew her head back and frowned. "It's hardly the time to talk about that, Patrick."

"Why not? I don't think I can stand it if another person asks me how I'm coping."

She nodded, recalling her mother's funeral and the frustration she'd even felt at that age at people's attempts to mollycoddle her. "I get that. But I don't see how talking about a vicious murder is going to help you any, either."

He pondered then nodded. "Yeah, on second thoughts, I think you might be right about that."

"We could...go for coffee or something...in a few days if you like," she said.

"You trying to take me under your wing?" he replied with a smirk.

"No, of course not but-"

"I'm going away," he said, interrupting her, serious again.

She blinked twice rapidly and he saw a glimmer of regret pass over her features.

"Not for good," he added with a soft smile. "You don't get me back in your life only to get rid of me out of it again so easily," he went on, his smile widening.

"You need to take some time," she commented with a smile of her own. "I think that's a good idea. Any plans in particular?"

He shrugged, "Not really. See where the wind takes me, that sort of thing. Need some time to figure some stuff out." He licked his lips nervously and gazed at every feature on her face before focusing on her eyes. "When I get back...though I'm not sure when that will be...I'll call you?"

The statement came out as more of a question than a statement.

Drawn to his eyes she nodded. "I'd like that, Patrick."

* * *

 **A/N: As you've probably guessed that effectively ends the first part of this story as this chapter wrapped it up. The second much meatier part is coming up next. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and the new followers, so pleased this story seems to be picking up readers as it rolls on.**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 - Friendship

Her fingers tapped on the keyboard in front of her with more force than was strictly necessary. A frown accompanied them as they danced along the keys.

Cho stuck his head in her office door after tapping on it quickly. "Boss, Salinger says he was home alone. No witnesses, no phone calls."

"Great," she replied with sarcasm as she continued to look at her screen, "just what we need, another suspect. We're supposed to be clearing them, not adding to them, you know."

Unfazed, "What do you want me to do with him?"

She sighed, "Let him go, we've got nothing to hold him."

As he disappeared from view her cell phone sounded in her pocket. She continued reading the report in front of her without looking at the screen as she answered it. "Lisbon," she said gruffly.

"Well you don't appear to be having a good day," the voice on the other end said, his tone undoubtedly amused.

"Patrick?" she replied as a smile came to her lips and her shoulders relaxed a fraction.

"Hello, Teresa. It's good to hear your voice again."

His own voice sounded melodic to her ears and contradictory to everything and everyone around her. She lived in a world where people were rushed and rushing constantly. Crazy, messy and off kilter. He sounded like he was talking from another world where there was order, comfort, fun, time.

"You still there?" he asked with a short laugh.

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "Sorry, busy with-"

"A case?" he laughed. "Tell me, do you ever get from behind that desk of yours?"

"Occasionally," she smiled. "To interrogate suspects I have to." She paused and asked, "How are you? Been a while," with more sincerity and less of the flirty tone she'd just unwittingly used.

"Sounds like you missed me. Why don't you meet me and find out for yourself?"

She closed her eyes as her heart raced a little. He evidently wasn't willing to give up the flirtatious banter just yet.

"Uh..."

"Surely you're allowed a coffee break?" he pressed. "It's been six months. Unless there's a reason you're afraid to meet me again?"

"What? No, of course not!" she automatically replied.

"Good. There's a little rooftop cafe near your building that I'm sure you go to. I'll meet you there in an hour."

With that he hung up without waiting for a response and she looked at the phone in her hand, open mouthed.

* * *

She saw him at a table that overlooked the street below, a soft smile on his lips as his eyes screened the people there. His blond curls blew in the light afternoon breeze and he wore a navy blue suit with a white shirt and matching vest. The silk ties he wore when she'd seen him again appeared to have been ditched in favour of the open neck shirt look instead. She had to admit it suited him. Her stomach somersaulted at how good he looked and she took a deep breath as she approached him.

When he noticed her come closer he dazzled her with a brilliant smile that almost took her breath away again and got to his feet quickly to greet her. A slight frown accompanied his smile as he watched her swiftly dip her head and take the chair opposite him before he smirked slightly and took his own again.

"You looked like you were terrified I was going to hug you or something," he said immediately with another smile.

"No...it's just...uh..." she stammered, embarrassed she'd been read so quickly by him.

"You don't have much time?" he supplied as an excuse for her with another smirk.

"Yeah, something like that," she said. "So," she added in a brighter tone, finally composing herself, "how are things? Did you find yourself on your journey of self discovery?"

He laughed softly as a waitress approached and took their drinks orders. When she disappeared he stared at her unashamedly, smiling and circling her face with his eyes.

She averted her eyes under his hard gaze and joked, "What? Do I have lipstick on my teeth or something? Quit staring at me and tell me what you've been up to and how you are."

"Sorry," he smiled, obvious he meant the opposite. He leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "I'm good, I think. Better. Things are...clearer."

Again his eyes pierced hers. "What kind of things?" she asked in almost a whisper.

"What I want from life."

She swallowed and licked her lips. He was not exactly being subtle with the heat of his gaze. She changed the subject to something safer than the road she suspected he was about to go down.

"Did you go travelling then, something like that?" she asked conversationally as she straightened up a spoon on the table.

"I did, actually," he replied in the same tone she'd used. "Did some sailing up and down the coast, it was nice, feel the ocean breeze in my hair, just take some time to be alone, come to terms with things."

She could imagine him on a yacht, his golden curls illuminated by the sun as he steered his boat through rippling waves. She had never much liked being on the water but seeing that spectacle might be worth a little seasickness.

"You own a boat?" she asked, her voice more high pitched than she'd have liked.

"Yeah, it's not that big. Just a four berth. You should come sailing with me sometime," he offered with another trademark smile.

"Yeah, well I never sail in less than a six berth," she replied with a roll of her eyes.

"Sorry," he laughed. "Being around rich people so long it's hard to break the habit of showing off."

"You did that even when you weren't rich."

"Touché," he laughed.

She laughed in return as they began to relax in each other's company some more.

"So, you're back to being a psychic again soon, then?"

He shook his head and bit the inside of his cheek. "No, I don't think so." He sighed deeply. "At least not yet. Most likely never again."

"That's...that's a big change, Patrick," she said softly.

"It's not the only one I've made these past months." He looked at her softly and his tone matched his expression. She could see him drop his guard. "I've...I've done some terrible things since we knew each other before, Teresa. Unforgivable things, really-"

"Patrick-"

"Let me finish. I'm not telling you this to garner your sympathy." He smirked cheekily, "Though I'm not absolutely opposed to you comforting me in some fashion either if you'd like."

She shot him a warning look and he continued with his original statement. Serious again, "Being away from that side of my life all this time I've been happier than I've been in years. Maybe not happy but happy - _er_. I feel refreshed at least. I can't wash away the sins of my past but I can try not to produce too many new ones. Or at least balance the bad with the good more. I'll never forgive myself for what happened to Melissa, for the marriage I got myself into when I knew it was wrong from the start. And no doubt I'll dwell on that from time to time. I'm not healed, I'll never be able to make right some of the wrongs I've committed but...but I have to find a way to go on. And pretending to be psychic...well that's not the way to accomplish it. I don't know what the hell I want to do with the rest of my life but I know that part's over."

She smiled and placed her hand on his over the table as tears pricked at her eyes. "I'm glad. I told you there was a good man inside you."

He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and looked soulfully into her eyes until she pulled her hand from his grasp as her face flushed.

"Well I wouldn't go that far, Teresa, but there's no harm trying to find him," he joked to break the tension. "I sold my house in Malibu," he added. "Felt...odd being there after what happened to Melissa."

"I can imagine," she said softly. "So you're a free spirit then?"

"Something like that. Actually I've taken out a lease on an apartment here."

"Sacramento?" she replied, telling her heartbeat to calm down at the thought of them both living in the same city.

"Hmm. It's a nice city. Has certain...attractions," he smiled as he raised an eyebrow.

She felt she couldn't put off this conversation any longer. She couldn't have him move to another city in the hope of them rekindling what was once between them, it was time to set him straight. She swallowed. "Patrick...look-"

"You have a boyfriend. A long term one, I'd hazard a guess...more than...two years, something like that? Yes, I'm aware," he shrugged nonchalantly.

She blinked quickly. "How did you know that?"

Their coffee and tea arrived and conversation stilled once again. As he poured his tea into the cup in front of him he said, "Rather obvious. The guilt that's apparent on your face when you look at me a second more than strictly appropriate, the slight pause before you accepted my invitation-"

She ignored his first remark; it was unfortunately too close to the truth to argue it. "There was no pause," she huffed as she focused on his second point, "you hung up before I had a chance to agree to meet you or not."

"Well there would have been a pause if I hadn't," he said assuredly before taking a long sip of tea. "But of course you would have agreed to meet me, I was just saving time. For a busy working woman and no doubt an efficiency expert like yourself I thought you'd appreciate that."

She shook her head at him. "It doesn't seem to bother you that I have boyfriend, then."

"He doesn't allow you to meet for coffee with people?" he grinned.

Now she added an eye roll to her already hard glare. "Of course he does...I mean...it's not his business to tell me what I should or shouldn't do. He'd never do that. He's not some Neanderthal."

"Hmm, interesting," he said as he sipped his tea again.

"Why?" she pouted. "Why is that interesting?"

"Because now I know the type of man he is."

"Oh, you do, do you?" she scoffed.

"Kind, understanding, patient, a..." he narrowed his eyes, "a cop...no...a lawyer. Smart certainly. You'd never be with some dummy-"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, I dated you after all," she immediately replied with a smirk.

He laughed softly before his expression turned more serious and he leaned across the table, crossing his arms. "I just have one question. Does he make you happy?"

A beat passed as she scrambled for a response. "Yes...yes of course he does."

"Okay," he nodded after another beat. "Then I understand."

Her eyes turned into slits, trying to interpret the real meaning behind his words. She knew him too well to know there was more he wasn't saying than what he actually just had. "You do?" she frowned.

"Yes. No romantic entanglement. Fair enough."

"Okay then," she said as she cleared her throat, a part of her wishing he'd fought a little harder against her than that. "Good. I'm glad we've got that cleared up."

He smiled effortlessly, apparently unperturbed. "Me too. But we can still be friends, can't we? I'd like that. I want a new life in a new city and...well the only person I know here is you."

"Friends? You think that could work?"

"Well we won't know until we try, will we?"

"I suppose," she shrugged, still suspicious of his motives.

"Unless your boyfriend would have a problem with that," he said innocently.

She glowered at him again. "You think I don't see through that attempt of yours to make me dig my heels in? He'll have no problem with this. We're equals, we have trust."

"Glad to hear it," he smiled.

A call to her cell phone stopped the conversation. "Sorry, gotta take this," she said as she dug it out of her jacket pocket. "Hey Rigs, what's up?" After listening to the other side of the conversation she said, "Oh god, seriously? Another one? Jeez...okay...let me think..." She puffed out a breath and looked at Jane across the table whose eyes were fixed on the street below again, his expression unreadable. A glimmer of a smile came to her lips that Jane noticed out of the corner of his eye and made him turn to her with a questioning frown.

She said, "Rigs, get everyone into one of the conference rooms this afternoon. I have an idea on how to find the killer; I just have to ask a new _friend_ for a favour."

* * *

 **A/N: Just for those not already aware I have started a new multichapter called Broken that you might want to check out (it will be very angsty in some of the upcoming chapters but I hope it'll be an exciting read too). I'm both looking forward and nervous to tell this story and I appreciate all the lovely reviews for the first chapter. It's M rated so you'll need to adjust your filters to find it.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Sorry, this chapter is a little silly but hope you like it. There will be some serious-ish stuff coming your way soon-ish for those who want more than some fluff (not that there's anything wrong with fluff!).**

* * *

Chapter 14 – Working his magic

"There you are," Lisbon said as she grabbed Jane's arm as he exited the CBI elevator, pulling him forward with her. "I thought you said you'd be right behind me in your car," she added with a glare in his direction.

"Had to stop off and get these," Jane smiled, rather enjoying being manhandled by her. He produced a deck of Tarot cards from his vest pocket.

She stopped in her tracks and frowned at him. "What the hell are they for? I don't want you to tell them their fortunes, Patrick. I don't even want you to lie to them and tell them you're psychic. I simply want you to tell me who's lying and who isn't."

He smiled assuredly at her. "Props, Teresa. You want me to find your killer, don't you?"

"I don't expect you to get a confession. Just to tell us who might be lying. Let us take care of the rest. And how Tarot cards are going to help matters I don't know."

"You'll see," he replied with an enigmatic smile. "Now, which way is this conference room?"

* * *

Ten minutes later Jane had successfully drawn out a confession from James Salinger he'd expertly manipulated him into making. He grinned as the man was led out of the room by Cho and Rigsby who looked almost as surprised as the man in handcuffs. He'd been led down a blind alley and before he knew it he had no choice but to confess to the murder of his best friend.

Jane stood looking at Lisbon, shuffling the tarot cards in his hands as he smiled at her. He stared at her, sheer pomposity and arrogance in his demeanour. She could almost see him puff his chest out in pride.

"Well done," she said evenly, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than it was already.

He saw through her immediately and his smile grew. "It's okay. You can thank me. I won't be embarrassed."

"Thank you," she said with a loud sigh of irritation. Then she relaxed her shoulders and shook her head. With more sincerity she added, "That was a hell of a show you just put on."

He laughed, "Meh, that was nothing. But I have to say it felt good."

She smiled. "You seemed to enjoy telling them there was no such things as psychics especially."

"That part I did enjoy." He dropped the bravado from his tone and added, "Felt good being honest. Well...as honest as I'm probably capable of being."

She laughed and said, "Well I better go and finish off processing."

"What happens to him next? Salinger, I mean."

"In a nutshell? He makes a formal statement and we charge him. DA's office is informed and we let the lawyers and the courts take over."

"Hmm," Jane replied with pursed lips. "That all sounds very dry and boring."

"It's procedure and the law; sorry it can't be more exciting for you."

He tilted his head from side to side. "I liked the catching the killer part, though. That was fun."

She smiled and rolled her eyes at him, "Well that's good, then. I'm very happy for you," she said in a patronising tone with a smirk.

"So what do I get out of it?" he asked as he put the cards back in his pocket.

The smirk fell from her face. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "I don't work for free."

She gaped at him and then responded with a raised eyebrow of her own, "You said you'd help. I don't recall a deal having been made to recompense you."

"Pity," he smirked as he eyed her lips.

"Patrick," she warned.

"Teresa?" he smiled back innocently.

"Stop it."

His smile grew. "Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that. We agreed that we'd...well-"

"Can a friend not look at another friend with admiration?"

Feeling the heat of his gaze she took a step back towards the door. "I need to finish processing. Can you find your own way out?"

"I might stick around if it's all the same to you. Rigsby asked me to teach him a card trick or two."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "He did? When was this?"

He backtracked skilfully. "Well he hasn't exactly asked me yet but I could see he'd be keen to learn some magic tricks. A little sleight of hand display might even help him with his pursuit of the fair maiden Grace."

"For heaven's sake, don't encourage him with her," she told him. "Jeez, that'd be all I need, those two at it like rabbits in some interrogation room."

"Sounds like a fine idea to me," he said as he trailed his eyes unabashedly over her figure.

She blushed furiously in response. Unable to think of an answer that wouldn't encourage him further she stammered, "Fine, show him a couple of tricks. But don't get in the way of his work." As she made it to the door she turned on her heels. "And don't fleece him for every cent he's got either."

* * *

The confession recorded she headed back towards her office. Jane was standing in the middle of the bullpen, delighting Rigsby and two of her other agents with coin tricks. She shook her head slightly at how relaxed he'd made himself in her workplace in less than an hour. The others already liked him as he worked his Patrick Jane charm on them effortlessly. That smile of his that had once(?) made her go weak at the knees worked equally as well on the opposite sex as he ingratiated himself with her team.

"Having fun?" she asked with a rigid face as she came closer.

Her agents scattered like leaves in the wind as they all took to their desks again and put their heads down. Jane merely shoved his hands into his pants pockets and smiled at her. He'd taken off his jacket and rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows and the sight of him pleasantly ruffled almost made her lose her train of thought momentarily.

As she was about to tell him it was time to vacate the premises a hand touched her waist lightly followed by a man's very familiar voice. "Hey, there."

She watched as Jane's eyes followed the other man's hand before they flew up to the face it belonged to.

Ryan Hastings, oblivious to anyone but his girlfriend, squeezed her waist gently to grab her attention. He whispered in her ear, "Brought you a sandwich as you told me you were having a tough day earlier."

She turned around immediately and smiled at him. "Oh, thanks, Ryan," she nodded, taking the bag off him. She could feel Jane's eyes burn into the back of her head.

"Let's go into my office," she said to her boyfriend, trying to make a quick escape.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" Jane said in a loud and clear voice as she made it to the door. Ryan turned around at once as Lisbon closed her eyes. She wasn't averse to them meeting but she'd have liked more of an opportunity to warn Ryan about Jane and how he sometimes acted before it. But then again as Jane's behaviour was predictably unpredictable she wondered what she could have told him anyway.

She turned around fully and shot Jane a warning glare. His lips quirked slightly in response. "I'm Patrick Jane," Jane said with a broad smile to Ryan. "And you must be the man who currently holds Teresa's heart. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Her glare intensified at the word _currently_ and she shook her head disbelievingly at him.

At Jane's outstretched hand Ryan shook it and nodded slowly, shooting an askance glance at Lisbon. "I'm Ryan Hastings. I didn't realise you were back in Sacramento, Mr Jane," he said politely.

"Oh, you've heard of me, then? Just got back," Jane nodded. "And please, call me Patrick, Ryan."

"I was sorry to hear about what happened to your wife. Must be a tough time for you," Ryan said with sympathy.

Jane's smile faltered and he nodded. For two hours he'd revelled in enjoying himself for the first time since he could remember and suddenly he felt like he'd been dropped from a great height. Not this other man's fault but he sure could pick his moments, he mused. And the fact he had his hand still around Lisbon's waist didn't help Jane warm much to him either. "Yeah...it's...well...thank you, Ryan."

"Patrick helped us with a case today," Lisbon cut in when she saw Jane affected by the mention of his wife's death.

His eyes thanked her for changing the subject as Ryan smiled and said, "Oh? That certainly sounds like an interesting story."

"It was actually," Jane said, recovering quickly his bravado. "But I don't like to brag," he shrugged.

Lisbon almost lost her footing at the remark and snorted. Ryan frowned at her and smiled. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll tell you about it later," she said to him. "Patrick was just leaving," she added pointedly towards Jane.

"I was?" Jane smiled at her.

"Yes, you were," she told him.

He studied her for a second and saw a pulse point jump nervously in her neck. He briefly considered further engaging in conversation with this man some more, to find his weaknesses and to discover his secrets, to investigate why Lisbon had chosen him as a partner. He was more than curious. But he was playing the long game and he'd already pushed her far enough today, it would do him no good to push her further. And if the next step in his plan worked out like he wanted it to then getting to know Ryan Hastings would either become much more convenient or, hopefully, unnecessary at all.

"Do you mind if I have a quick word with your girlfriend before she eats what I'm sure is a delicious sandwich," Jane said politely to Ryan.

Ryan stammered, "Uh...of course," he frowned, a little taken aback that Jane had asked his permission.

Suddenly aware of the nonexistent sound of keyboard tapping in the bullpen meant they had a captive, if furtive, audience Lisbon shot a glare to her team who began shuffling papers and coughing noisily at their desks.

She said to Jane, "I'll see you out."

"Why thank you, Teresa."

She rolled her eyes at him and sighed as she said to Ryan, "Why don't you wait in my office and we'll share that sandwich."

As she and Jane made it to the elevator she said, "What the hell was that all about, asking Ryan's permission to talk to me?"

He laughed softly. "Just gauging his reaction to the question. He passed with flying colours. Definitely not a Neanderthal."

"You're unbelievable," she said with a shake of her head.

"I believe you've told me that before, a long time ago," he said with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

Ignoring the remark that made her colour slightly she said, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I was thinking perhaps I could work here."

She blinked rapidly and frowned. Then she burst out laughing. "You? Work here? So, you want to be a cop all of a sudden?" she smirked.

Unfazed by her response, "I did pretty well earlier, didn't I? Cracked a case you and your team couldn't close for two days. And I was hardly even trying. Imagine what I could achieve if I actually put in some effort."

She bit back a response to the insult and said instead, "Patrick, you can't wake up one day and decide to be a cop. It takes years of training-"

"I don't want to be a cop, Teresa. Please, last thing I want is the mounds of paperwork that probably litter your desk every day. Nor do I want to be the one to run first into danger with a gun in front of me. I don't have a death wish."

"Then what are you suggesting?"

"What you called me earlier...consultant, right? Wasn't that what you introduced me as to the suspects? I could...consult for you...here."

"I only called you that because I didn't know what else to call you," she responded as she pondered his offer.

"I can close cases for you," he said assuredly. "You saw something in me that made you ask me to help you earlier. A way for me to use the skills you know I have. Why else would you even have asked? Unless it was just so you could spend some more time with me today so you used that excuse so it appeared above board."

"It wasn't that," she said quickly in return then frowned, considering if he was partially correct.

"You know I can help here," he said softly. "And..." he licked his lips and took a breath, "and I need some purpose in my life. If I don't have something to do...something to keep me honest...well honest-ish..."

She smiled softly at that and he continued as he stared beseechingly into her eyes, "Some _one_ to keep me honest...then I fear I'll fall back on my old ways again."

She tried to read him, to ascertain if he was being sincere or if this was purely a manipulation to get close to her again romantically. She decided it was more than likely a combination of the two. But the question was if she could employ his expertise at work as she helped him in trying to become a better man while at the same time keep her distance from him personally in such a close environment where she'd see him every day.

As she struggled he caught sight of her hesitation and bit the inside of his cheek before he pulled something out of his jacket pocket. Her eyes widened when she saw the medal she gave him all those years ago and her throat constricted with emotion.

"You kept it?" she whispered finally.

"Course," he said, turning it in his fingers. "Let's see if I can make better use of your advice this time. With your help, naturally."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews and follows for this story. They mean the world to me and that you're still reading fics one year later from The Menalist ending. Happy One Year Anniversary Day everyone.**

* * *

Chapter 15 – Getting Acquainted

Lisbon returned to her office, a line between her eyes. Ryan looked up at her expectantly from his position on her red couch; the sandwich already unwrapped and placed beside him. He smiled warmly at her. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," she said distractedly, sitting down and grabbing half the sandwich. She bit into it but without much effort and continued to frown.

"Teresa?" he urged as he took a bite from the other half.

"Hmm?" she said as she chewed.

"What's the matter?"

She sighed and dropped the half eaten sandwich back to its brown paper wrapper before turning her body towards him. "What do you make of him?"

"Patrick Jane?"

She rolled her eyes. "Who else, Ryan?"

He chuckled and shrugged. "Certainly seems like a character. I can imagine why he swept you off your feet years ago. After all, every young girl likes a bad boy and I'd say he was one of those and that you were no different. No doubt charming when he wants to be too though, yes?"

"He didn't sweep me off my feet," she said in a high voice. She relaxed her expression and her tone. "But...yes...he can turn on the charm with just about anybody. He already has half the team wrapped around his little finger."

Her boyfriend studied her for a moment as he drank from a bottle of water. Then he asked her quietly, "Does that include you too?"

She blinked quickly and her lips parted. She saw the worry in his face, the fear he'd lose her, the insecurity he rarely showed. She'd only seen him like this a handful of times and the memory of the last time she'd seen his face like this made her tear up. "Of course not," she said in a whisper with a shake of her head. She leaned over and kissed him softly. "But...but...well he just suggested he wants to work here. With me."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Oh...I see." He gnawed on his bottom lip. "How would that work?"

She smiled that he didn't appear overly threatened by her ex's return to her life and began to tuck into her sandwich again. "He really did help us out today. We were getting nowhere and he read the guy who did it like a FBI profiler. Only better."

"Sounds like he'd be an asset, then," he nodded.

"Practical as ever, huh?" she smiled.

He shrugged. "Well if you think he can help you close cases quicker and that means you get out of this office before ten pm then it's a win-win, isn't it? For both you and me."

She took a breath. "Look, Ryan...the thing is-"

"He wants to get back together with you. Yeah, that was pretty obvious," he said with a nonchalant shrug.

"I don't know about getting back together with me but yeah, he's interested in...more than a friendship no matter what he's said to my face. Was it that obvious?"

"Teresa, I work in the D.A.'s office. All day I read people too for a living. He tried to cover it under a friendly facade when he met me but he was hardly hiding his interest in you. Can't blame him, to be honest."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"You've just told me that nothing's going to happen between you two again, right?"

"Of course it isn't," she stammered.

"Then I trust it'll stay that way. I trust you, sweetheart. And...well-" he smirked.

"Well what?" she frowned.

"Well, we've been together almost three years. You were with him for what...less than a week? Over a decade ago? I'm pretty sure if you were into some flashy guy with a sports car you'd have left me for one long before now."

She pondered his statement. To an outward observer she could see where he was coming from. The persona Patrick Jane currently presented to the world was exactly that. But she'd seen behind that mask. And behind it lay someone much more dangerous to their relationship than a playboy.

"So, what's your opinion? You think he should work here?"

"Not up to me. And...well, not entirely up to you, either."

"Huh?" she replied. Then she rolled her eyes. "Oh crap, I'll have to run it past Minelli first."

"He trusts your instincts. If you go to bat for Patrick Jane he'll back you up."

"Yeah and if he does and Patrick Jane lands me or this team in a pile of crap he has to clean up then he'll have my head for it too."

Ryan shrugged his shoulders. "You think that's likely?"

"The one thing I remember well about him is that rules and regulations mean nothing to him. He's not a natural cop, by any means. Nor does he want to be one. He likes to put on a show, do the unexpected. And while that can be positive in my line of work to surprise a killer like he did today-"

"It can also mean that his lack of boundaries may mean one goes free when a case goes to court."

Lisbon nodded. There was little doubt in her mind that Jane could cause Ryan trouble too which could eventually work its way back to her.

Ryan finished by saying, "Then you need to ask yourself if Jane solving cases for you outweighs any trouble he'll bring to your door by solving them."

"Yeah," she sighed with a nod as she put her head back on the couch.

* * *

"You want me to hire Patrick Jane as a consultant?" Minelli said as he sat back in the chair in his office, frowning at Lisbon.

She straightened up in the chair opposite. "I think he'd be an asset to the team."

"Yes," Minelli said, drawing the word out slowly and narrowing his eyes at her. "He really had Salinger confess in ten minutes?"

"If that."

He sighed deeply and fiddled with the lighter on his desk, turning it in his hand as he frowned as he thought about her proposal. "You don't have reservations? Considering your...personal history?"

"That was a long time ago and...well, we've both moved on. I can handle him," she assured him. _Hopefully_ , she added inwardly.

"Okay," Minelli shrugged. "As long as you keep him in line and he closes cases then that's good enough for me to give him a trial run. Say two weeks to start."

* * *

The first week had gone swimmingly well. Too well, Lisbon now realised, as three complaints and a citation for causing a public nuisance littered her desk on the third day of the second week.

Up until earlier that day, where she was now an inch away from throttling him, Jane had endeared himself to her and her team. He'd lavished them with expensive pastries and stories of celebrities he'd met, oozing charm and smiling that damn smile of his that made people do exactly as he wanted like it was his super power. As she seethed completing the paperwork in front of her and she tried to come up with legitimate legal reasons for some of his actions earlier that day, she shook her head, almost as annoyed with herself as the consultant who was wisely keeping his distance from her after what had occurred and gone home earlier instead.

She should have seen it coming when that couch appeared, she told herself.

On the third day of him working there and without warning, a battered brown leather couch he said he had no room for in his Sacramento apartment appeared, positioned against the red brick wall of the bullpen. He said it'd just be for a few days until he found a storage space to keep it. She rolled her eyes as she turned a page and completed a box on the form in front of her. He had moved a small table beside it and spent more time lying on it than at the desk she'd acquired for him, pushing it way to the back of the bullpen instead. Less than an hour after it was placed it was known as 'Jane's couch' and it quickly became established as another member of her team.

He'd made up for placing the couch without first asking her permission by discovering her penchant for bear claws and ever since she'd one found on her desk every morning. She'd choke him with it if he dared put one there the following day.

Cho had been the most wary, at first, entirely sceptical of the conman coming into their midst. She absently reminded herself to listen to him more in future. But, as Jane solved case after case quickly and efficiently, he'd relaxed more around him too. Of course, Jane allowing him to drive his Ferrari on the way to and from crime scenes and taking witness statements helped matters along on that front as well.

He'd been polite and sometimes a little flirtatious around her but not so much it bordered on her feeling uncomfortable or where she'd have to tell him to cool it down. Instead, he treated her, more or less, like every other female he interacted with on a daily basis. She didn't want to admit how much that fact caused her chagrin.

He still called her 'Teresa' most of the time but had adapted to their changed situation and called her 'Lisbon' more often as the days went on unless they were alone. He'd raised an eyebrow when she first called him 'Jane' but he'd shrugged it off quickly, seemingly satisfied that this was how she wanted to separate their now professional relationship from their once personal one.

A tap on the door made her look up and he popped his head in the door.

"I thought you'd gone home," she said, trying to keep her voice even.

"Knew you'd be burning the midnight oil tonight," he said. He smiled, "Is it safe to enter?"

"Not if you're attached to those teeth," she said with a glare before dipping her head again.

He chuckled and passed the threshold, placing a container of her favourite Thai food on her desk while he sat opposite her and opened one of his own. Fishing into his inside jacket pocket he pulled out two sets of chopsticks, and placed one set in front of her.

"So, how goes the bureaucracy?" he said breezily as he began to eat his noodles while leaning back in the chair.

She gaped at him, too shocked to say anything momentarily. Then she let loose. "What the hell is the matter with you?! Do you have any idea of the trouble you caused earlier?!"

He sighed theatrically. "Teresa, please relax. You'll have a heart attack by the time you're thirty five if you react that way to every little problem."

"Every little problem?!" She shuffled the papers feverishly on her desk. "You caused a brawl, Patrick. A damn brawl! There are people in the hospital!"

"Not with any serious injuries though, right?" he shrugged.

Her eyes almost popped out of her head. "That's not the point!"

"Yes, it is," he told her, absolutely serious now. "We caught the killer, didn't we? I tried to smoke him out but I needed that distraction so he'd lead us to her body. You know he'd have killed again, Teresa. That's worth more than a few cuts and bruises and hurt feelings."

She exhaled loudly as he raised a challenging eyebrow. Picking up the container of food, she leaned back in her chair and began to pick at it and thought about the case they'd closed that day.

She'd known Glen Lassbrook was a killer the first moment she'd laid eyes on him and as she looked at Jane when they'd started questioning him he'd nodded imperceptibly that he knew it too. He was too clean cut and perfect in every aspect of his life with a meticulous house, a perfect family and a high powered job in San Francisco. He was polite and charming and a sociopath if ever she'd met one. Unbothered by repeated police intrusion into his life along with barbed insults from Jane that would send any innocent man into a fury, he'd answered questions about the disappearance of a fourteen year old girl in his neighbourhood as if they were well rehearsed. Which they no doubt were, she realised now.

Only when Jane, at a candlelit vigil held for the safe return of the girl, accused Lassbrook's next door neighbour John Peters of killing Laura Martin, had trouble ensued. Bluffing so easily, Lisbon herself briefly wondering if he was lying or not, he told those present that a search warrant had been secured for the innocent Peters' property and all others in the neighbourhood for the following morning. He'd said it was based on soil samples picked up from a backpack Laura owned that had been found during a routine search (although no such find had taken place). Making things up as he went along, Jane added that the particular sample was only found in the housing development they were part of due to alkaline levels. As Laura's mother, a woman with a known quick temper, began to flail at Peters with nails and fists flying, and who had to be pulled off him but not before injuring a couple of others in her wake, did Lassbrook make use of the distraction and steal himself away from the scene to presumably move the body before that bogus warrant was served.

"You should have told me what you were planning," she said to him with a sigh as she thought now about the teenager they'd found dead in a shallow grave earlier, the anger she'd felt minutes earlier dissipated.

"Would you have allowed me to play it like that if I had?"

She shrugged, "Probably not."

He smiled softly at her. "Well, then there's your answer."

He breathed out and dropped the carton onto the desk, noticeably losing his appetite. He leaned forward and opened his mouth in a question before closing it again. She nodded for him to speak and he looked out to the empty bullpen, a sombreness in him she'd never witnessed before. "Does it get easier?" he said so quietly she had to lean forward to hear it.

She knew exactly what he was referring to as she closed her own container of food. For a civilian he was handling seeing dead bodies remarkably well considering how he'd reacted at his first two six months prior. But when he'd seen that girl earlier today he'd blanched, obviously shocked at the depravity that existed in some people.

"Unfortunately it does," she told him truthfully. "Not that you care less...if anything, for me at least, you care more."

He nodded, smiled with a grimace and then turned slowly towards her. His eyes circled her face and she felt her pulse quicken at the intensity of his gaze, the moment when she recognised unmistakeable heat in it. The sadness of the case they'd just closed, along with the darkness and quiet surrounding them as the only two people still in the office at ten on a Thursday night was more than precarious. He was feeling low and in need of comfort, she told herself. She'd seen it before with colleagues who grew closer during difficult cases, and that was without the shared history she and Jane had. Probably why he'd come back to the office, she guessed, the need not to be alone when you see something horrifying like that for the first time urging him on to seek out company. And the human need to be with people who saw it too.

Suddenly he frowned and looked away from her, ashamed she'd seen him so laid bare. "You should get some sleep," he said to her as he quickly stood up and cleared his throat. His mask back in place, he added with a bright smile that hardly made it to his eyes, "Save those complaints for tomorrow, I'll think of some creative means to answer them for you."

"You know what," she smiled, heartened to see more warmth seep into his own when he saw her smile back at him, "I've got that covered." Quickly she scooped up several sheets of paper on her desk and threw them into the bin beside her. She'd more than likely retrieve and complete them in the morning but she knew by seemingly abandoning paperwork it'd cheer him up. "I'll tell Minelli they must have got lost if he asks," she shrugged. "To hell with them, we caught the killer. That's what counts."

His smile widened and heated her blood once again. "I'll remind you that you said that next time I cause trouble."

"As long as the trouble co-exists with closing a case like the one we did today then I'll live with it."

"Hmm," he said, unconvinced, "we'll see about that. Your patience will only run so far, Agent Lisbon."

"Then don't make it run out," she replied. "Come on," she added, shrugging on her jacket, "days like these the guys will be at O'Malleys, you can buy us a round of drinks."

He rolled his eyes and laughed. "So, I'm the team's cash cow now, am I?"

"Sure," she laughed. "For the first round anyway."

As he followed her out he gently placed his hand on her lower back as they walked towards the elevator. Perhaps the day wouldn't end so terribly after all, he thought to himself as she made no attempt to pull away from him. Also, a more relaxed and slightly inebriated Teresa Lisbon sounded like just the ticket to lift his mood.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I'm back! Sorry for being so long away from this story. Trust was exhausting to finish and I needed a break after it. The next two chapters will work much better for those who have read Chance Encounter as some of the events talked about here will reference those that happened in that story (not so much this chapter but more so next chapter). So if you're scratching your head in parts because you haven't read it, I'm sorry but you were warned!**

 **A Broken update is my priority next week for those that prefer a much darker tale than this one – I know a couple of you at least who are looking forward to that...**

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Chapter 16 – Birthday Surprise

Lisbon perused the busy bullpen outside as she sipped on her coffee. A month in and Patrick Jane had inexplicably passed his trial period and was now a fully fledged member of her team. Even with the trouble he'd caused her on a mostly twice weekly basis his talent in reading people made up for it. Minnelli was both reproachful with his unorthodox methods and pleased with the corresponding closure rates attributed to them. It was a tightrope act her new consultant was currently managing to balance rather gracefully.

Most of the time.

She smiled as she watched him 'mind read' Van Pelt, the young agent's eyes transfixed in awe as he managed to 'guess' something she'd been thinking. As much as a pain in the ass he was to work with sometimes, he'd brought more camaraderie to her team than she ever realised was missing. They were a tighter unit with him as part of it and a much happier one too.

His eyes suddenly flicked to hers, realising he was being watched, and he shot her a wide grin in return. Caught gawking, she immediately ducked her head back down to the file she was supposed to have been reading, her cheeks ablaze.

The desk phone rang at her side. "Lisbon," she stated after clearing her throat.

Her brother's jovial tone greeted her. "Hey, sis," Stan said. "How's crime fighting these days?"

"Pretty good. How are things in the Building trade?"

"You really want to know?" he laughed.

She laughed in return. "Nope. How are Karen and the kids?"

"You know, you never ask me how I am when I call you," her brother teased.

"Well, I know you well enough to know you'd soon tell me if something were wrong with you before I had to ask."

"Smart ass."

"Hey! Language," she admonished with a smile. "So, what's up?"

"Karen has me calling around, making sure everyone's coming to Annie's birthday party Saturday. You and Ryan still in?"

"Of course, wouldn't miss it for the world. Unless-"

"You catch a case, yeah, I know, T. Fantastic, then." A beat passed. "Why not have Patrick Jane tag along with you guys too? Wouldn't mind a catch up with him myself after all this time."

She gaped at the receiver in front of her. Her voice increased an octave. "What?! Why would you want that? You hardly even met him back then...and the last time you saw him you punched him on the nose."

Stan laughed immediately. Smugly, "Yeah, I gave him a pretty good right hook from what I remember."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "It wouldn't be appropriate, Stan. It's a family occasion, after all. Not to mention having my current boyfriend and a previous one in a car together isn't exactly a scene I'd like to see play out."

"Oh, is Ryan jealous, then?"

Her brother couldn't resist teasing her about any aspect of her personal life.

"No. He is not. Nor does he have any reason to be."

Another chuckle. "If you say so, T. Still, I'd like to meet the boy wonder again sometime. I think you're just afraid I'd grill him."

"Of course I am," she replied immediately.

Her brother laughed again. "You're no fun anymore, you know that?"

"Yeah, whatever you say," she said with another eye roll. "I'll see you all Saturday."

* * *

"Can't believe Annie's five already," Ryan said to Lisbon as he parked his Audi on her brother's street. "When I met you she was barely out of diapers." They exited the vehicle, Lisbon's arms around the purple gift wrapped unicorn nightlight she'd bought her niece for her birthday. Ryan carried some pink balloons as they strolled over to Stan's front door, his free hand at her back.

A cacophony of children's voices could be heard around the back of the property as they knocked on the front door. So different to many of Lisbon's own birthdays growing up in Chicago, the weather in Sacramento meant outdoor celebrations were the norm in this part of the country. Another bolt of laughter erupted, this time accompanied by high pitched squeals of delight of what sounded like ten five year olds.

"Well, they're certainly having fun," Ryan chuckled. "Karen must have broken out the ice cream already."

Lisbon smiled and nodded towards the side of the house. "Come on, let's try around the back."

They made their way there and Ryan unlatched the small gate at the side, gesturing for Lisbon to go through first. As he was closing it behind them Lisbon's eyes barely noticed her niece dressed up as a fairytale princess as she sat in the middle of the lawn surrounded by about a dozen of her friends. It was Patrick Jane that immediately drew her attention. He was sitting cross legged in front of Annie and her friends, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his jacket discarded to the side of him in a heap. He was performing magic tricks with coins and cards for them, almost glowing in unabashed delight at performing in front of a captive audience again. A mixture of emotions hit her. Her heart warmed at the sight of him clearly in his element and obviously making her niece feel like the most special girl in the world in this instant. It was an incredibly sweet sight, after all. But annoyance soon kicked in after that initial reaction. He hadn't told her he was coming here today. He'd wished her a good weekend as he'd popped his head in her office the night before. But maybe his smile had been more smug than usual as he'd said it. She'd thought no more about it as she cut through the deluge of paperwork littered on her desk. But now...now she knew he had already planned on coming here and surprising her. She needed to put him straight on the boundaries of their reformed relationship. And how did he even know about the party or where-?

"Is that Patrick Jane over there?" her boyfriend asked behind her, cutting into her thoughts.

"Yep," she said briskly as she began to march towards the blond in question.

Ryan trailed behind her. "Did you know-?"

"Nope," she interrupted with the same sharp tone.

She arrived at the outskirts of the semi circle in what appeared to be the inaugural meeting of the Patrick Jane Little League Fan Club and he looked up at her, his smile almost eclipsing the sun's brightness and his blond curls bathed in a halo of light. _God really had a warped sense of humour at times_. She shook her head and glared at him, about to open her mouth in a tirade until her niece screamed in joy as she noticed Jane looking behind her. "Auntie Reese! Auntie Reese!"

Lisbon's expression turned from downright hostile to affected happiness quickly as the dark haired cherub bounded towards her. Jane chuckled and smiled at her again, shooting her a look that told her she couldn't react how she wanted to just yet.

A last quick dirty look in his direction she knelt down and focused on her niece instead. "Hey, sweetie!" she said, beaming a genuine smile at her. "Happy Birthday!"

* * *

While she'd been handing over the present to Annie, Karen had come through the patio doors from the kitchen and greeted her and Ryan with hugs. "Sorry I wasn't here to greet you both, it never stops around here," her sister in law apologised with a happy but harassed smile.

"No problem," Lisbon smiled. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jane starting to blow up balloons and twisting them into shapes as he continued to hold court on the lawn.

Karen nodded towards him. "Patrick's been an absolute godsend. The children's entertainer called us yesterday...chicken pox or something...I was frantic until Stan reminded me he used to do some magic tricks. He's a lifesaver."

Jane glanced at the two women quickly as he heard his name mentioned, settling a smile on Lisbon briefly before a blond girl of about Annie's age tapped him on the shoulder as she awaited her balloon animal, taking his attention back to the children once again.

"Oh..." Lisbon frowned. She immediately felt bad for almost launching insults straight at him. While he could have told her he was coming to the party, his motives were pure. A small voice resounded in her head. _Or were they?_ It still seemed too coincidental for both events to merely happen by chance. She rolled her eyes inwardly. Perhaps sometimes she was too much of a detective, looking for mysteries where none lay.

"Hey, you two!" Stan Lisbon approached them, a beer in his hand. After another round of hugs he handed a bottle of beer to Lisbon from his back pocket. "Here, Reese," he grinned as his eyes darted towards Jane, "think you might need this more than I do."

* * *

The children were keeping Jane busy and, as Stan and Ryan took charge of the barbecue, Karen and Lisbon began to carry paper plates and napkins out to the long bench seat that had been set up towards the back of the garden. As her sister in law handed her some paper cups to take outside as they stood in the kitchen, she said to Lisbon quietly with a smirk, "So...you never told me how good looking he was."

"You know you're married to my brother, right?" Lisbon smiled. After Stan and his family had moved out to California, she and Karen had become closer and closer. Karen was someone instantly likeable at first meeting. Lisbon had been no exception. She was a genuinely warm and happy soul, enjoying her life as a wife and stay at home mom while working part time looking after the paperwork for Stan's business. She was smart and had enough strength of character to keep her husband in line, the perfect calm foil to his craziness and childishness at times. Stan and she had just fit together perfectly from the day they'd met. In some ways she'd reminded Lisbon of her late mother, Karen shared that same unaffected and open character that she had. Lisbon's friendship with her was one of the few she had outside of work and it always felt good to let her guard down and engage in some silliness or gossip with the other woman where she didn't have to be Agent Lisbon for a change, just Teresa.

"Just as well I didn't see him before I met Stan that day, then," Karen grinned. "You might have had a fight on your hands," she teased.

Lisbon laughed then pondered that statement. Not the joke that Karen had made but just the fact they'd met both men on the same day all those years ago. "Wow, I...I never thought about it like that," she said softly.

Karen frowned. "You know I was only kidding about-"

Then she noticed some wistfulness wash over her sister in law's face. "Teresa?" she said with concern, taking a step closer.

Lisbon averted her eyes to the kitchen window. The sight of Patrick Jane being handed a bottle of beer from her brother as he got to his feet caught her interest outside. If they'd stayed together back then maybe a similar scene like this could still have taken place as both couples enjoyed a family barbecue...maybe even with a couple of kids of their own in tow... She felt the beginnings of tears being formed and she shook herself mentally, coming back to the here and now once again. "Sorry," she said to Karen. "I don't know what happened to me there," she smiled.

"You really were in love with him back then, weren't you?" the other woman asked her quietly, scanning the kitchen first to make sure they were alone.

Lisbon shrugged. "We were just kids, it was never meant to last. It couldn't."

"Stan and I were kids back then too." She took a breath. "Teresa...if you feel there's something still there between you-"

"No," Lisbon said with a resolute shake of her head. "I'm with Ryan, remember? He's a good man, you know that, Karen. I'm lucky to have him."

Karen Lisbon nodded slowly as she nibbled on her bottom lip. Then she said, "He is a good man and I know he's been good to you. But are you sure he's the right man?"

* * *

Jane took a long swig of the beer handed to him. "Thanks," he said to Stan. "Needed that. Parched." He nodded to the kids around them who'd decided to play some game involving chasing each other, earning him a grateful break in providing their entertainment. "They're pretty exhausting."

Stan laughed. "Sorry you signed up for this now?"

Jane shook his head. "Course not. Was surprised you called me out of the blue like that, though."

"We were let down last minute," he shrugged.

"And I was your first thought to stand in?"

Stan raised an eyebrow. "Who says you were?"

Jane narrowed his eyes as he read Lisbon's brother. He was almost as bad a liar as she was. "You weren't let down at all. You wanted me to come here today. Why?" He glanced at Lisbon who was doing her best to ignore him as she carried paper cups to the table near them. "Just to mess with your sister? Or to assess my intentions now I'm back in her life?"

"When did you figure out I was lying?" Stan smiled.

"When you called I had an inkling it was a set up, seemed too...co-incidental. And just now when you said you were let down you looked to the right. Means you were lying."

"Wow, really? I'll have to remember that next time Karen asks me if I had one beer or two."

"So, which reason was it? Or a mixture of both?"

Stan continued to smile. "I'd been making hints to her about bringing you by for a visit, even met her for lunch at the office a couple of times and found you inexplicably...elsewhere. Seemed like she was in no hurry for us to meet again or even to talk about you all that much. Like you said, probably afraid of me teasing her about you, especially at work. Or in front of Ryan. Reese likes to...compartmentalise, is that the word?

"Anyhow, I decided to cancel the entertainer and bring the mountain to Mohammed, as it were. Save myself some money at the same time."

Jane smiled back, mildly impressed by the man's deviousness. "You could have just called me, we could have met privately as it seems obvious now you have questions for me."

Stan grinned. "Yeah, but this was more fun for me. Especially when I saw T's face earlier when she walked in. Priceless." As Jane chuckled softly, Stan added. "So, if you thought it was a set up why did you come?"

Jane shrugged. "Guess I was intrigued." He grinned. "And surprising Teresa was too good an opportunity to let pass by." He turned his expression serious again. "So...what do you want to know?"

Stan took a sip of his beer. He returned Jane's expression. "We'll talk after the party." He nodded to a tree house set in an old oak tree at the bottom of the garden. His tone left no room for argument. "Meet me up there before you go home. Some things I need to say to you."

With that Stan patted Jane's shoulder and moved back to the barbecue again as Ryan called him over to begin frying burgers, his words leaving Jane puzzled.

* * *

 **A/N: I have taken some liberties in this story with the ages of Stan and Karen's children, the timeline is different to canon but this is a different universe! Thanks.**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 – Staking a Claim

The party was a loud messy affair as all manner of barbequed dishes were rather unceremoniously planted on the table as they were cooked. There was no order to the chaos and fingers dived in as soon as the food was put down. Jane was left at a seat at a far end of the table, surrounded by three of the kids he'd been entertaining earlier. Lisbon was in the middle section, Ryan at one side and her niece beside her.

They still hadn't talked but nodded and glanced at each other now and then as they'd eaten between interacting with and occasionally cleaning the faces of the children around them, once grinning at each other as he pointed to a spot of barbecue sauce that was smeared on her cheek from a chicken wing she'd eaten. It seemed she'd recovered from the shock of seeing him earlier and was much more relaxed now surrounded by her family. He was certain he was still going to get a ticking off, but it would be a local explosion more than a nuclear one, by now.

The obligatory presentation of the birthday cake followed and Jane watched Lisbon more than he did her niece, who seemed transformed back into what he imagined the carefree version of herself was at that age. Annie blew out the candles as she looked on, her dimples fully on show and a cheerful smile on her face as she watched the little girl. His heart skipped a beat and he excused himself quietly from the group to grab some water and a breath in the cooler kitchen inside.

As he guzzled from a bottle of water from the fridge, Ryan appeared soon behind him. "Having fun?" he asked Jane, a nervous small smile on his lips.

"I am. Yourself?" Jane asked with the utmost politeness and assuredness.

Ryan nodded slowly. The brown haired man smiled again. "Of course. You really saved the day with the magic show. Thank you for that." He laughed, "You have some new admirers in those kids out there, that's for sure."

Jane half shrugged, settling the water bottle on the counter beside him and leaning back on it while he shoved his hands into his pants' pockets. "Well, I don't like to miss an opportunity of impressing women." He chuckled. "No matter the age."

"Yeah," Ryan said, his tongue running over his bottom lip quickly. Under his breath he looked to his feet, "Ain't that the truth." He cleared his throat and addressed Jane again. "You're making quite a name for yourself in the D.A.'s office, I have to say."

"Oh?" Jane grinned.

Ryan took a deep breath, Jane smiling inwardly as the other man readied himself to make a point. "Look, Patrick...I know that...well, Teresa has mentioned what an asset you are to her team. I mean...I can see it myself with the arrests coming our way...the closure rate since you've joined is quite incredible."

"Thank you," Jane smiled, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The other man licked his lips as Jane maintained his expression of neutrality. "It's just...well..."

"You fear that my methods may have an adverse affect on Teresa's career," Jane interjected, cutting to the chase.

Ryan nodded. "I know she doesn't need me to fight her battles for her-"

"No, she does not," Jane interrupted again, more of a bite to his tone.

A beat passed as both men stared at each other. "Her career is important to her," Ryan reminded him, wholly serious now. "I would hope that you think enough of her not to get in the way of that."

"Why would you think I'd want her job to suffer?"

"I don't think you would, to be honest. But...well, you're quite charismatic and...some would say...beguiling, I suppose. You are able to easily influence people. And sometimes your methods are unorthodox, as you've just admitted. And while Teresa is the most committed and principled woman I've ever met, she is not immune to...every influence." He'd started off his argument strongly but his words trailed off towards the end.

Jane studied the other man before he responded. Lisbon's boyfriend had come to talk to him in the guise of warning him about complicating Teresa's work life but there was another rather obvious undercurrent to the conversation - he was afraid of him. Afraid of losing her to him. Afraid of upsetting what they had together.

If he were someone more concerned with the feelings of the man opposite him, Jane may have felt some guilt for Ryan's suspicion that he would interfere in his romantic relationship with Teresa. He did feel a smidgen of pity for the other man, and saw that it appeared he had already felt her drift away from him. Jane could empathise; he knew what it was like to lose her. Then he frowned, surmising quickly that whatever was going on in Teresa and Ryan's relationship wasn't a crack he'd created. Whatever it was had occurred long before his reappearance back into her life.

Jane finally stated, "Ryan, I'd never manipulate Teresa into taking a path she didn't want to take herself. At least, not one that would not lead to the result she really wanted to occur in the first place."

The other man read between the lines. Frostily, "And it's you who decides what's best for her, is it? And to hell with anyone who gets in your way, is that how you see it?"

Jane shrugged and looked around the kitchen, noticing people were venturing further from the crowded table outside. It was only a matter of time before they were interrupted. Equally serious, "You really want to do this here? Now?"

They'd met briefly on a few occasions over the past month, each outdoing the other in heightened politeness but now the line in the sand appeared to have finally been drawn.

Two toddlers ran into the kitchen and Ryan took a breath. "Guess it'll have to wait." He took a step closer and whispered in Jane's ear. "But just one thing. Just so you know, Patrick, I love her with every fibre of my being and we've built something good together the past couple of years, hasn't always been easy but we're still together, and that counts for something. While you may offer her a flashy smile and some excitement, Teresa and I are committed to each other."

Jane watched the children rush into the living room before responding. Calmly, "If you really were as secure in your relationship as you want me to believe you wouldn't feel the need to tell me all that, Ryan."

The other man licked his lips nervously and Jane smirked. "On that note, Stan wants a word with me. Please excuse me."

* * *

Lisbon broke off from talking to her sister in law as Jane strolled across the lawn towards the tree house. "Why does Stan want to talk you?" she said without preamble as she grabbed his arm as he passed her.

He smiled at her. "Well, hello to you too at last. Nice party, isn't it?"

She glowered at him. "Never mind that. And don't think I've forgotten how you've somehow wormed your way in here today. Now, what does he want?"

Jane shrugged, "If you recall I'm not really a psychic, Teresa. I really have no idea."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And what were you and Ryan talking about in the kitchen? I saw you through the window."

Another shrug. "Just shooting the breeze."

She shook her head. "You're lying. It looked far from that."

"You having a nice time?" he replied, quickly changing the subject. "I'm glad you have family still close to you here in Sacramento. Nice to see you out of the office and more relaxed."

"Yeah...it's...it's good," she said distractedly, her mind still on the heated exchange in the kitchen she'd witnessed from afar.

He sighed wearily. "Teresa, I'm just at a birthday party, no need to be so suspicious. I'm not here to cause you or anyone else any trouble. I promise."

"Hmm. Maybe not today you're not."

He beamed a smile at her. "Precisely."

She rolled her eyes. "You better go talk to Stan, then. But if he starts acting like an overprotective jerk of a brother tell him to talk to me and not you."

He performed a little bow. "As you wish, m'lady."

"Jackass," she muttered as she turned away.

* * *

After climbing the ladder up to the tree house, Stan turned his head and nodded to him, his lips pursed. Jane came to sit beside him, both men's legs dangling between the posts of the terrace they sat on. The tree house was crafted finely, Stan a clearly excellent carpenter. A small room lay inside suitable for three or four children (or a tight squeeze for two adults) and covered in a flat timbered roof. Outside was a terrace area that stretched over three sturdy branches, underpinned by more planks of wood to make it secure. Silently, Stan reached behind him and handed Jane a bottle of beer, uncapping one of his own.

"Is it so bad I need a drink to hear it?" Jane joked with some nervousness as he cracked the bottle open. He wasn't sure where this conversation was going to go but in the mere hours he'd been in Stan's company that day recognised that the man rarely approached a discussion so sombrely.

"Worried I'm going to chew you out, am I?" Stan smiled.

Jane peered down at the ground in front of them. "More worried about the drop from here currently if you go further than that."

Stan began to chuckle. "With all these witnesses around? Come on, I'm not that dumb."

Jane laughed softly. "Look, if this is about your sister-"

"It's partly that." Stan turned to face him. "I know you're interested in her. Pretty obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes in their head today. Including her boyfriend."

Jane nibbled on his bottom lip. He exhaled loudly. "You think I'm no good for her. That I should leave her and Ryan to it and get out of her life once and for all. Stop complicating it."

Stan shook his head. "I like Ryan. He's been good to her. He's...dependable, you know. A straight shooter."

"All the things I'm not, then," Jane smiled.

"Up to T who she dates, Patrick. Don't normally get in the middle of all that and leave it to Karen to get the skinny. Besides, Teresa would kick my ass interfering. But...well, if you think getting in between the two of them is going to be easy then I think you've underestimated the challenge you seem to have set yourself, boy wonder. Teresa's loyal to a fault. And she and Ryan..." He shook his head and sighed. "Well, he's been there for her through some really rough times. Helped get her through them, you know."

Jane frowned, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words, trying to figure out what wasn't being said. Stan continued, "She won't suddenly decide to take a chance on you just because you two used to be a big deal a decade ago."

"Yeah, I'm perhaps realising that," Jane said softly with a hint of defeatism.

Stan whacked him on the arm. "I'm not saying you've got no chance, buddy. She was head over heels about you years ago."

Jane grinned at the other man. "Really?"

"Yeah, like you never knew that," Stan said with an eye roll.

"Well, the feeling was pretty mutual," Jane admitted with a wistful smile.

"You want my advice? Play it cool. T's likely to run for the hills if you come on too strong right out of the gate."

Jane frowned at the other man as he sipped his beer. "You said you liked Ryan and that you wouldn't normally interfere in her love life. So, why are you giving me advice on how to win her over?"

Stan picked at the beer bottle label. "Trying to return a favour I owe you, I guess," he said quietly as he stared at the bottle in his hands. "Not that you need my advice, you're smart enough to know how to play things with her yourself. Probably helluva lot smoother than I was in my day, anyway."

"Favour?" Jane swallowed hard, his gaze intense as he watched Stan's side profile.

Stan turned his head towards him and nodded. He let go of a breath and a line appeared between his eyes. Softly, "I know what you did before you left Chicago, Patrick."

Jane's mouth parted and he swallowed again. "I...I don't know what you're talking about."

Stan shook his head. He smiled. "Yes, you do, boy wonder. Somehow you talked my father into never drinking again. I don't know what the hell you did or how you managed it but he never hit any one of us again or drank a drop of the hard stuff after the time you broke into our house and saw his handiwork."

Jane looked down to his own bottle. He shook his head. Quietly, "Really? I...I hoped that would be the outcome that day but...I wasn't sure..."

"What the hell did you say to him?" Stan prodded.

Jane's lips quirked into a smile. "I hypnotised him into quitting. Told him a few hard truths when he was under. I...I wasn't entirely sure it worked if I'm being honest. Or that it would last. I wasn't as good at hypnosis back then as I am now. But...but I knew when I met him that day in one of the bars Teresa told me he frequented that there was still a good man inside. I know a little about lousy fathers and when I met him I saw a man who was desperate and grief stricken who lashed out, not one who was inherently evil. I saw that he wanted to change but he was caught in a vicious circle of guilt and anger. He just needed some help to get back on the right path."

"Jeez, hypnosis, really?" Stan laughed. "I never believed in all that crap."

Jane laughed. "I could have you clucking like a chicken in seconds, believe me." He looked towards Lisbon who was clearing the table below them. Softly, "Obviously she doesn't know. How'd you figure it out?"

"She was too busy listening to those goddamned Jazz records and crying into her pillow after you left to pay much attention to the timing." Stan looked at him sideways with an eye roll, "Thanks for introducing her to that crap, by the way." He faced front again. "Took her a while to realise he'd changed for good. Hell, took all of us a while. He came back with apologies like he always did after he gave one of us a beating.

"We all thought it was just a temporary reprieve, you know, the usual. But...but when a month passed and he joined up and lasted in AA for all that time I talked to him one night about being sober. Teresa was studying as per usual, she was more hopeful in being able to attend College that Fall because of it, and had turned her focus from crying over you into getting a head start on the criminology course she wanted to attend. Typical Reese, focus on one thing to stop thinking about another."

He laughed softly and his tone turned serious again.

"He told me...he told me some blond kid talked some sense into him a month before. Somehow I knew it was you."

Jane nodded and felt a lump in this throat. Maybe he'd done one worthwhile thing in his no good life, after all. It didn't make up for all the scams afterwards but it was something.

"You changed our lives," Stan told him with upmost sincerity as he locked eyes with Jane. "We were all heading down a dark path and you changed that, Patrick. Us boys were a handful and T was trying to do all she could to keep us in check. The beatings aside, the pressure of it was tougher on her than she'd ever let on. And even if she had went to College the guilt of leaving us in that situation would have got to her, made her close herself off from us most probably, most likely we wouldn't nearly be as close as we are still. Look, I know you did it for Reese but I...well, we all owe you-"

"You don't owe me a thing. He wanted to change like I said, Stan. I did the easy part. He did the hard part in keeping sober. Hypnosis only lasts so long." Jane glanced around the garden, no sign of the man he'd talked to in the bar that day. "What happened to him?"

"Died a couple of years ago." Stan shrugged. "I'm not saying everything was rosy after he quit drinking...too much damage done already. But we were able to make some kind of amends, become some kind of family again. Last few years before he died were pretty good ones, considering." Stan smiled, scraping off the rest of the label on his beer.

Jane's eyes followed Lisbon as her boyfriend kissed her quickly as he helped her continue to clear the table below. "Why didn't you tell her?"

"She was just starting to get over you at the time. I thought if I told her she might run after you or something...I dunno...join the circus or whatever."

Jane laughed. "I doubt that, somehow." He nodded, "You did the right thing, not telling her, though."

"You could tell her now...or I could. Might help grease the wheels, give you an edge over Ryan."

Jane looked down and shook his head before he faced Stan again. "Let's leave the past where it is. If I'm going to win her over I want it to be because of what I can offer her today, not because of what I did for her years ago."

Stan arched an eyebrow. "And I thought you were a conman, willing to pull any trick in the book to get what you want."

Jane's eyes travelled to the garden below again as he watched her tickle her niece. "Normally, yes. But not with that, not with her."

* * *

Jane washed his face in the family bathroom after coming back inside after his talk with Stan. He smiled, for once not hating the reflection he saw staring back at him.

He took a breath and opened the door, about to head back down the stairs when he heard Lisbon's voice in a room at the end of the hall. He peered inside the room, its door open a crack, as he watched her soothe a baby to sleep by rocking it in her arms. He smiled instantly and pushed the door open wider with his fingertips. The accompanying creak made her turn around and she smiled at him softly before she put the baby back in the crib in front of her.

He ventured inside and stood beside her as they looked inside at the infant clad in a white sleepsuit with its eyes closed.

"Who's this?" he whispered.

"Peter, the newest addition to the Lisbon clan," she smiled. "I don't know how Karen does it. Three kids not to mention my brother, the biggest kid of them all."

She turned to face him. Quietly, "So, I see you made it out in one piece. What did he want?"

Jane shrugged. "Just a civilised discussion between two grown men."

She flashed a smile at him. "Two grown men? Were there four of you in the tree house, then?"

He chuckled quietly. He whispered, "Very funny."

He looked back at the baby again and then back at her. "You know...I wondered sometimes...those condoms we used that night-"

"Patrick!" she said in a loud whisper, the noise making the baby squirm a little in its cot. Jane nodded towards the door and they retreated to just inside the room.

"What?" he smiled, seeing her reddened cheeks. "We had sex, Teresa. I doubt you've forgotten that. At least I hope it was memorable for you. It's etched in my memory forever."

She rolled her eyes. "What's you point?"

"Well...those condoms you bought..."

She tried to suppress it but then she smiled. "Oh god, those awful green ones. I was such an idiot buying those without looking at them properly. What? You worried they were defective or something?"

"Crossed my mind."

She shook her head. "They weren't. Don't worry." She laughed softly and looked towards the crib again. "I was so nervous that night. I hadn't a clue what I was doing."

"Wouldn't have been the worst news to hear if they had been," he shrugged in answer to her first statement. Her head spun back around to him in surprise as he continued, "And you were adorable that night," he smiled, his eyes circling her face.

She swallowed under his gaze as he continued talking and looking at her. "You still are, Teresa."

The way he said her first name in that soft and quiet voice of his made her brain stop working. She could only gape at him as he threaded the fingers of his right hand through hers and pulled her flush to him, her eyes attracted to his lips and swallowing hard as he leaned in closer. Her eyelids fluttered closed. Then a soft murmur from the baby near them broke the spell he'd cast over her. She pulled her hand away from his roughly and fled the room. He came into the hallway a second later and pulled on her arm as she went to go back downstairs. "Why are you running from this?" he said with some urgency and a hint of desperation.

She shook her head and breathed out as she put her back to the wall at the top of the stairs. "I have a boyfriend, Patrick. You have no right to do this to me."

He came a step closer and stared into her eyes. "Do what to you?" he said with a smug smile as he noticed the pulse point in her neck skitter.

She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back from her. His smugness only enraged her. She growled, "I'm not the same little girl you could charm with that damn smile of yours back then, Patrick. I have a boyfriend-"

"You already said that," Jane said calmly.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, it appears that it needs repeating. You need to get whatever notion you may have in your head that we're going to get back together again the hell out of it!"

"Why?"

She blinked, thrown off kilter. "Why?!"

He nodded. His tone was conversational. "Yes, why?"

"Because-"

"If you're going to use Ryan as an excuse again you'll need to do better than that."

"He's not an excuse," she said with determination.

"No?" Jane shrugged. He sighed. "Please, Teresa. It's obvious things aren't right between you. You may be good enough of an actor to keep up the facade of everything being peachy for most people to believe but not me. I know you better than that. Not to mention he's more jittery than a scared cat in my presence."

She licked her lips and he raised an eyebrow when it appeared she was going to deny what he'd just said. She changed her defensive stance and shrugged. "Fine. Things are...complicated between us currently." As she saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes she shook her head, turning her expression hard again. "But we love each other and are working through it. And just because I might still be attracted to you in some way-"

"Might?" he smirked.

She threw him a dirty look. "Yeah, might," she told him, "it doesn't mean I'm ready to give up what Ryan and I have together. And certainly not to follow some childish pipe dream, ten years old. We don't all..." her words trailed off as she averted her eyes from his.

"Cut and run like I did in my marriage? Is that where you were going?"

"N-No," she stammered.

"You're right, I did. Not physically...too much of a coward for that, I suppose. But mentally I checked out. I barely checked in to start with if I'm being entirely honest." Softly, "And...And I think you already have too, as much as you don't want to admit that just yet."

She shook her head violently. "You're wrong, Patrick. I haven't. Nor will I."

He shrugged. Quietly, "You tell yourself that, Teresa. But you and I both know what almost happened between us in that room just now. People in love don't almost kiss someone else. Take it from someone who knows."

She made to move away and he caught her wrist gently, making her eyes flick back up to his. "You can't live in denial about us forever," he said with determination.

She shook his hand off and practically ran down the stairs.

He exhaled loudly as he watched her make her retreat. "Well," he muttered quietly to himself, "you really messed that up, Patrick." He only wished he'd taken Stan's advice on board.

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, I am working on next chapter of Broken for those waiting on an update but this one is proving easier to write at the moment. But it is coming, I promise. Hopefully by the end of the week if I can get past a certain section that's been giving me trouble this past week.**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 - Prickly

Monday morning came round all too fast for Lisbon. An early call out at five am did nothing to improve her mood as she arrived at the crime scene at dawn in the sunny seaside town of San Clemente. Local cops circled the body of Irvine Hunter, a retired jeweller aged seventy, found dead on the sun spattered sands, just out of reach of the tide line of the encroaching waves of the Pacific.

She shoved her way through gawking spectators and under the yellow police tape to find Cho was already present, noting the details presented from a police officer.

"What have we got?" she asked sternly as she addressed her second in command, her eyes flitting back and forth as she searched for any sign of blond hair near them, exhaling slightly when she found none.

Cho quickly filled her in on the personal details of the victim, a large gash to the side of his head the obvious cause of his demise.

"Looks like a mugging," Cho commented as they both scanned the body. "Wallet's gone along with his wedding ring. He was a congressman for a few years so that's why we're here."

"Or not," Lisbon stated quietly as she hunched down to observe the rapidly decomposing corpse better.

"Yes, he was. He served-"

"No. I mean I don't think it's just a mugging," she clarified.

"You're correct, Lisbon," a familiar voice said cheerfully behind her.

She closed her eyes briefly. Then she turned around to see Jane kneel on the sand beside her. He neither looked at her nor showed any affect of their contretemps at her niece's birthday party two days prior.

His focus was on the body in front of them. "It's meant to look like a random mugging though, naturally." He pointed to the jewel encrusted cufflinks of the dead man. "But those," he commented as he touched the diamond centre of the left cuff, "are the real McCoy. No would-be mugger would leave those behind."

"What if he was interrupted before he could take them?" Cho asked.

"But still find the time to ferret around his jacket pocket for his wallet? Highly improbable."

Lisbon, who had come to the same conclusion he had, felt the need to debate the point nonetheless. "He may have been interrupted after he took the wallet but before he could take the cufflinks."

Jane looked at her for the first time since he'd arrived, his gaze bringing some unwelcome colour to her cheeks. He grinned at her with a knowing look to that effect. "You already know the answer to that, Lisbon. If the killer had been interrupted then the mugging would either have been reported before the body was found by that early morning rather too overly enthusiastic jogger over there, I presume-"

He pointed in the direction of a dark haired man in his twenties with an eight pack and dressed in bright yellow shorts and black vest combo who was talking to a local police officer, before adding, "-Or there would be two bodies lying here. Not one."

He dazzled another self satisfied smile at her before he gesticulated to the area around the body. "Plus, no sign of a struggle between three people, just two."

She bit back a comment about his pomposity due to the fact it appeared he was correct. _Naturally._

She also bit back the insult that accompanied that comment. _The big headed egotistical jerk._

She looked away from him quickly and focused on Cho. "Cho, we'll go talk to his wife, see if he has any enemies-"

Jane made a disgruntled sound at her back and she rolled her eyes as she turned back to him.

She glared at him. "What? You stay here, talk to the first guy on the scene, see if you can get anything else out of him." She smirked at the thought of Patrick Jane talking to the muscle head who looked like an overgrown wasp on steroids with the accompanying brain cells to match if her instincts about him proved correct. "I'm sure you two have lots in common," she added with a victorious smile.

Jane narrowed his eyes at her before grinning widely. Loudly, "So, you're still upset about Saturday then, are you?"

Cho looked between them and saw Lisbon's mouth gape open in shock at Jane's casual remark. He sighed wearily and said, "Why don't you two talk to the wife? I'd rather stay here and talk push ups than get in the middle of whatever this is." Without another word he walked off to the first witness on the scene, notebook in hand.

Lisbon pulled Jane away from the body roughly by the forearm. "What the hell were you thinking bringing that up in front of Cho?" she hissed as she let go of him.

He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and shrugged. "Since your way of dealing with what happened was to obviously try to avoid eye contact with me for the next...oh...however long-"

"I was not!" she squeaked. She cleared her throat. "I was just waiting until we were alone before I addressed-"

He ignored her flimsy explanation. "Yes. You were. You know I can get more out of the wife than you and Cho put together. Yet you were still willing to sideline me on this case because of-"

"You egotistical, self righteous, pompous pain in the a-"

"Wow, you've been holding that one in for a while," he grinned. He took a breath and softened his tone, relaxed his smile. "You know we need to talk about this...situation, Teresa. You can't avoid it forever."

She exhaled loudly and shook her head. "There is no situation apart from the one you've made up in your own head, Patrick," she said softly.

"That's not true."

She rolled her eyes and breathed loudly again. "Then we have a problem, don't we? Because if I can't convince you that whatever you think might happen between us...will _not_ happen then we can't work together."

He licked his lips and looked to the ocean beside him. Quietly, "I like the work. I'm good at it. You know I am."

"Yes, you are," she told him. "Look, it doesn't mean you have to stop working at the CBI. Just...just not with me. Last thing I want to do is lead you on, Patrick. It's probably always been a bad idea for us to think this could work in any sort of professional capacity-"

"But it has been working," he interrupted, facing her again. He sucked in a breath and clicked his tongue. "Until I screwed it up on Saturday."

"It wasn't just you, okay? I was in that room too. It was a mistake of my making as well. I guess, it's...it's been difficult for me too, Patrick. Confusing. Seeing you again after all this time...remembering what we had. You...you were the only boy who ever really _got_ me back then, you know. No one else came close."

He looked to his shoes and smiled faintly. "But Ryan _gets_ you now, is that what you're telling me?"

"He's a very good man," she said. "I haven't always been the best girlfriend...hell, I'm still not...but he loves me anyway."

"Okay," Jane muttered. "Okay," he said again, looking up at her again. "I'll back off if that's really what you want."

She blinked twice in rapid succession. "Really?"

"Really."

"Okay, then. Y-yes, it is."

He smiled softly at her and nodded as he let go of a breath. "All right, then," he said, his voice gaining strength again. "Then there's no reason for us not to work together, is there?"

She frowned, unsure if she believed him or if this was some kind of trick.

"I promise, I'll keep my distance," he said, reading her reluctance. "Trust me; I know when a woman has made up her mind."

* * *

They spent the rest of the next couple of days questioning Hunter's family, eventually honing in on one of the man's grandsons. He'd recently been written out of the dead man's will and was a good suspect with his reputed quick temper. Jane had quickly shrugged off Lisbon's insistence on him being brought in for further questioning until he'd suddenly agreed quickly later on in the second day.

After a two minute standoff where she knew his quick change of mind meant he had another more likely suspect in mind that he was keeping to himself, he'd finally pointed the finger at Hunter's other grandson. The young man in his early twenties projected a calm facade but, when watched closely, it was offset by a nervous flicking of his fingers. And, when the arrest of the bad boy grandson was clearly on the cards, did Lisbon also notice the triumphant accompanying small smile of satisfaction.

After five minutes of interrogation by Cho and Lisbon, the former angelic grandson Kevin had sweated his way into a confession, citing his grandfather's change of mind over his will into including the other boy, John, as his reason. Kevin had insisted that John had a long history of bullying him growing up and was infuriated at his grandfather's change of heart. He'd seen killing the man as a way of both setting up his sibling and ensuring he'd inherit solely.

* * *

They regrouped back at the office a day later as Jane carried a cup of tea into Lisbon's office. She tapped keys on her keyboard and nodded to him quickly as she typed up her report and he sat in the chair opposite her.

"So, have I convinced you I can behalf myself after the last few days?" he asked.

Her eyes flitted to his, her fingers still on the keyboard as she raised an eyebrow in response.

He chuckled, "I mean in relation to us on a personal level, not in relation to the work I do here, of course."

"That would be too much to ask, I guess," she smiled as she went back to her work. After a few moments where he drank his tea and began to flick through a case file on her desk, she stopped typing and cast him a more studious stare. "Are you sure you still want to work for me?" she asked him seriously. "There are a lot of good teams here, Patrick. And...I know you're a pain in the ass sometimes but any one of them would be lucky to have you."

He frowned then smiled. "I'm not sure if that was a compliment or an insult."

"You know what I mean."

He set his cup and saucer on the desk. "Well, firstly, I don't consider that I work _for_ you, Teresa. I like to think of it more as working _with_ you."

She waved off his response. "Yeah, whatever. What else?"

"Not to sound immodest but-"

"Perish the thought," she interrupted with an eye roll.

He ignored her comment and continued, "I'm the best asset the CBI has. So it stands to reason I work in the best team it has too, which happens to be yours. Anything else would be...frankly, less than both your beloved CBI and I would deserve."

"Well, I'm pleased to see my rejection of your advances hasn't made one iota of difference to your own feelings of self worth," she joked.

He dropped the cockiness from his tone. "You and I both know my self worth on a personal level is pretty much juxtaposed to my self worth in a professional one."

Regret covered her face that she'd been so brusque with him. One of the reasons he'd wanted the job was to redeem himself for all the years he'd conned people. She'd forgotten that over the past few days.

"This job helps me look in the mirror again," he continued. "And so do you. I know you think you giving me a hard time over how I do things sometimes goes in one ear and out the other, but it doesn't."

She cast him a sceptical look and he grinned. "Well, not always," he added.

She laughed softly and sighed. "Patrick, I'm glad about that. Really I am but-"

"I was out of line on Saturday. I apologise. I suppose being with your family...I don't know...made me wonder what might have happened if we'd managed to stay in touch. It was nice being part of that. But you have a boyfriend and..." He shook his head, "I don't blame you for choosing him over me. I'll respect your choice from now on."

"But working with me...won't it be too hard for you?"

He shrugged and smiled. "It's not like I have to watch you having sex on your desk, Teresa. You don't exactly flaunt your relationship in my face. But I'll get used to it anyhow, I'm sure. You're not leading me on. It's my decision to stay so forget about it and let's move on."

"Positive?"

"Absolutely."

As he drained his cup and was about to leave her office, she licked her lips and said, "It's not that I'm choosing him over you, you know. We have history too, Ryan and I-"

Her cell phone sounded, interrupting their conversation. "Lisbon."

Jane watched her eyes widen in horror as her breathing quickened.

She nodded furiously as she swallowed. "Karen? Calm down. What did you say? Okay, which hospital? How bad is it?" Her right hand clung to cross around her neck. "Oh god, okay. I'm on my way."

She hung up and grabbed her jacket.

"What happened?" Jane asked with urgency, passing her her purse.

"Stan," she said breathlessly, "he's had an accident at work." Tears collected in her eyes. "Oh god, Patrick, Karen said I needed to get there fast. I've never heard her so worried. It's bad, really bad. I know it."

"Just breathe," he said, bending down to catch her eyes. "It's going to be okay, Teresa."

She shook her head. "You don't know that!" Tears fell on her cheeks as she grabbed her car keys.

He quickly took them back off her and saw her horrified look in return. "You're certainly not driving in your state. I'll take you. Besides anything else, my car's faster." He ushered her out of the office. "Come on, let's go."

* * *

 **A/N: I will be away next week so very unlikely I'll find time to write much for a couple of weeks. But I'll get back to this one as soon as I can and next chapter will be more exciting than this quite dull one imo. But thanks again for all your lovely comments and interest as always.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Apologies for not responding individually to all the lovely comments last chapter, I was on holiday so didn't have wifi all the time. And thought it better to write than respond on my return. But I am always truly grateful for them. Hope you enjoy this one, it gets interesting, I think...Thanks again.**

* * *

Chapter 19 - Tension

They found Karen in a plastic chair at the end of a long hospital corridor. She rose immediately upon seeing Lisbon fly towards her, the two women exchanging a hurried hug. Breathless, Lisbon asked, "What's going on? What happened to him?"

Karen Lisbon shook her head violently from side to side. She stammered, her words almost tripping over each other as she recounted with speed, "I-I don't know exactly. His foreman called me, told me there was an accident at the Freeman house, you know the big renovation he has on at the minute-"

Lisbon nodded furiously to get her to come to the point quicker.

"-Anyway, he said Stan was working underneath the old roof, clearing some debris away so they could take it down but..." She licked her lips and renewed tears sprang from her eyes, "but one side of it collapsed. He pushed one of his workers out of the way but..."

"It fell on him instead," Lisbon finished for her. She took a deep breath, tried to maintain control as her sister in law fell into her arms again as she wept openly. "What did the doctors say, Karen?" she asked her gently.

The other woman rubbed her tears away with the back of her hand and sniffed loudly. "He was unconscious when the paramedics got him here. Was hardly breathing, they're worried about his lungs. I...I don't know what's happening now. Nurse said someone would come talk to me but so far..." She shook her head and rubbed her tears away again.

"Well, that's not good enough," Jane said, handing Karen a cloth handkerchief. She blinked, only realising he'd accompanied Lisbon at this point. "Thanks, Patrick. Sorry, didn't see you," she said distractedly as she took hold of it then blew her nose into it, casting a questioning gaze at her sister in law.

"Patrick was in the office with me when you called," Lisbon explained. Needing something to do than wait around and wallow in gloomy thoughts she went into full on boss mode. "Okay, I'll see if I can find someone-"

"Why don't I do that?" Jane said to her, nodding towards Karen with a concerned glance. "You stay with Karen."

"Oh-okay. Right, of course. Thanks, Patrick," she mumbled, putting an arm around Karen and pulling her into a seat beside her.

He dazzled a smile at them both. "My pleasure. I'm sure Stan will be fine. He's a Lisbon, after all. Tough as nails." With that he turned on his heel and walked off towards the nurses' station.

Karen took a deep breath and leaned her head against the cool concrete wall behind her. "I hope he's right," she sighed.

Lisbon nudged her elbow. "He has this rather annoying habit of perpetually being so," she replied with a small smile.

Karen laughed softly as she turned her head towards her friend, "Thanks, T. Thanks for being here."

"Where else would I be, huh?"

A panicked expression suddenly came over Karen's face. "Oh Christ, the kids. I...I bundled them over to Mrs Peters next door but she's not really capable of looking after them all for more than an hour or so-"

"I'll call Ryan, he'll go take care of them."

"You sure?"

"Of course, any excuse to play those damn video games and get dressed up like a ballerina," she smiled. "You know he loves those kids. Did you call Jimmy and Tommy?"

"No...not yet. I...I just thought of you. I thought maybe once we know more-"

"We'll leave Tommy in Chicago, too far to come without knowing more yet and he has his hands full. But I'll call that layabout Jimmy up, he mentioned he was gigging or something an hour away from Sacramento last week when he called and invited himself to dinner at my place tomorrow night. He can help out for once in his sorry life."

* * *

Ten minutes later Jane returned with a doctor in tow. The man in his early fifties with gold rimmed glasses and a bald head did not appear to have come along willingly as he shot Jane a look of disapproval before he painted on a compassionate smile as he approached the two women, who stood up in unison as he came closer.

"This is Doctor Matthews," Jane explained, "he's going to run through Stan's condition."

The older man looked at the two women and Lisbon told him, "This is his wife, I'm his sister, what's happened?"

"Mr Lisbon has suffered a large pneumothorax, a collapsed lung. Now, while that is sometimes treatable without invasive surgery, in Mr Lisbon's case we are concerned with some lung tissue damage so we believe it's best to perform a thoracotomy. I can go through the procedure with you-"

"When will you be performing the surgery?" Karen asked. "And...what are the risks?"

"Well, as in many procedures, we will only know the extent of the damage once we have a look at the lung itself. Hopefully the damage will not be excessive and he will make a full recovery. As to when...well, we have an excellent thoracic surgeon lined up who will operate in two hours."

"Wow, that's fast. Great, I guess," Karen said with a shrug.

"Do you have any other questions?" Dr Matthews said, glancing at his watch.

Lisbon said, "Can we see him before the surgery?"

Matthews glanced at Jane then cleared his throat. Politely, "Briefly. Family only."

Lisbon caught up with Jane outside Stan's hospital room as Karen stayed with Stan before he received his anaesthetic. "How is he?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "He looks terrible," she sighed.

He placed his hand on her arm gently. "He's going to fine, Teresa."

"Yeah," she nodded, "Yeah, of course he is. He's in the best place and they're operating soon."

"Precisely," he smiled.

"What was all that with you and the doctor? What did you say to him, he looked pretty pissed at you."

"Meh, just had to engage in a little truth talking to get his attention," he grinned.

"So you basically insulted the man so much he came to talk to us so you'd stop."

"Pretty much," he laughed.

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Thanks. Sometimes you being a nuisance is actually helpful."

"I aim to please."

She licked her lips. "Thank you. For...being here. I...really appreciate it, Patrick."

"There's no need to thank me, Teresa. I like Stan...I like your whole family."

"They like you too."

As they looked at each other Jane noticed Ryan walking towards them out of the corner of his eye. "Well, I think I should go, nothing else I can do here." He nodded behind her, "Ryan's here for any further emotional support you might need."

She turned quickly and waved to her boyfriend who quickened his pace in response. She turned back to Jane again. "Okay, okay, then."

"You'll let me know how he is?"

"Of course, I'll call you as soon as he's out of surgery."

"Ryan!" Jane greeted the dark haired man with a smile who put his arm around Lisbon's shoulders. "Hey, Patrick," he said breathlessly. "Teresa? How is he?"

"I'll explain everything," she said. "What are you doing here? What about the kids?"

"Jimmy dropped everything, said he'd look after them for an hour until I checked on you then we'd swap. Plus I was sent for take out."

"Only so he doesn't have to pay for it," Lisbon responded with a roll of her eyes.

Jane chuckled, "I better go. Sounds like family talk." He focused on Lisbon. "Talk to you later?"

"Yes, and...thanks again, Patrick."

Ryan reiterated sincerely, "Thanks, Patrick. Thanks for taking care of...everything here."

Jane smiled at them both easily and walked towards the elevators. As he reached them and pressed the call button he looked back at the couple with a sigh and relaxed the assurance of his posture. Ryan had gathered Lisbon into his arms and was hugging her tightly, only succeeding in making Jane look away from them again with a grimace.

It was damn hard trying to be a better man.

* * *

Jane pulled a beer from the fridge in his Sacramento apartment and puffed out a breath. Tea wasn't going to cut it tonight. He uncapped it and took a long draw as he looked around his spacious loft from his place at the island counter in his glossy black kitchen. He walked over to the coffee table in front of his sleek black leather couch and opened the file he'd been studying the night before. A smiley face greeted him immediately and he sat on the couch with a long sigh, settling the beer bottle on the table. He'd been methodically taking home Red John case files since he'd joined the CBI to get a better understanding of the team's biggest case. But it wasn't that fact that had made him want to investigate it. Nor was the fact his wife's killer had died by his hand.

It was the personal connection this killer had for Lisbon. He'd seen it immediately as soon as his name was mentioned. Whatever the connection, it was a closely guarded secret of hers and not one she was ready to share with him. The team seemed unaware but Minelli, he believed, knew more. He doubted she'd be too happy investigating behind her back but if he could gain some sense of this man and bring clues to his identity back to her then she'd get over it.

A knock came to his front door and he frowned. He'd only just ordered take out ten minutes ago, they were obviously quiet this evening. The thought of greasy takeaway had sounded like the perfect temporary panacea to the display of affection he'd witnessed at the hospital earlier. He closed the folder and went to open the front door, grabbing his wallet on his way. But when he opened it Lisbon stood in front of him with a shy look on her face and not the delivery man.

"Teresa? What's happened? Stan, is he-?"

"He's going to be fine," she said through a relieved smile. "Surgery went great."

He beamed back at her. "Phew, you had me worried for a second, there."

She glanced behind him.

"Sorry," he said, drawing the door open to allow her to pass. "Come in. You surprised me, I thought you were going to call, not drop by."

A frown appeared on her face. "Sorry, are you...I mean...if you're expecting company-"

He laughed, "Only company I'm expecting tonight are some egg noodles shortly."

She smiled and released a breath. She looked around her quickly at the modern space. "Nice place."

"Right," he said with a nod of his head, "you haven't been here before. Came furnised, not really my taste but it'll do for now."

"I hope you don't mind me just dropping by-"

"Of course not." He directed her towards the kitchen. "Beer?"

"Yeah, why not, thanks."

He fetched her a beer and asked, "So, the surgery went well?"

"Yes...great. Very clean. Hardly any tissue damage. He won't be on site again for a while and in hospital for a few days but he's expected to make a full recovery."

"Told you he'd be fine."

"Yeah...you did." She picked at the label of her beer and licked her lips. She took a quick sip and placed it on the counter as she looked back up at him. "You paid for the surgeon," she stated, piercing him with a gaze.

"What?" he laughed.

She came a step closer. Stony faced, "You paid for the surgeon, didn't you?"

Now he knew how suspects felt when she had them trapped in a lie. "The hospital weren't supposed to tell you that. Matthews agreed-"

"He didn't tell me. You just confirmed my suspicion."

He sighed and shrugged. "Hoisted by my own petard, eh? Okay, yes, I did. How'd you figure it out?"

"I asked about the surgeon, found out he was helicoptered in from San Francisco. But the hospital already has a thoracic surgeon so I asked myself why they'd fly in another. Did a little research and the one who operated on Stan is the best one in California. And Stan's insurance sure as hell doesn't run to that."

He clicked his tongue. "Had some time on your hands when they were operating, huh?" He held his hands up, "Okay. Look, I'm sure the one they had lined up was going to be fine but I just wanted to increase the odds a little more in his favour-"

His words were cut off by her arms circling his waist, her head against his chest. "Thank you," she said, her voice breaking. "Thank you."

He was momentarily stunned by her response. In truth, he thought she might have a go at him for interfering or using his money as some kind of ploy to get closer to her. Her slim figure moulded to his front and he tentatively placed his arms around her back. He closed his eyes and pulled her closer, savouring the feel of her against him. "It was nothing," he whispered. "Just money, inconsequential."

She broke apart a little but kept her hands on his sides. "I remember telling you once that your dream of being rich one day was superficial. Guess I have to eat my words."

He shrugged, his fingers ghosting on her back, "Nah, back then I only wanted the money for the lifestyle it'd give me, not for any good I might actually do with it so you weren't all wrong."

She smiled and they locked eyes, both suddenly aware of the intimate nature of their bodies. He waited for her to pull back but instead she slowly wound her fingers around him towards his back again. He pressed his fingers more forcefully into her back, bringing her head closer to his chest again. Neither spoke for a few seconds as they resumed their tight embrace. Then she said quietly, "You made me feel so safe back then."

"I know," he whispered back. "And you made me feel worth something. You still do," he said softly with some pain in his voice.

He swallowed as he felt his emotions getting the better of him. He went to pull away and grabbed her upper arms to release her as he looked away but she surprised him by placing the fingers of her right hand under his chin to bring his face back to hers. "Because you are," she told him, barely audible as her irises pierced his own.

He placed his palm on her cheek and stroked it with a shaky thumb. For now it was just the two of them as it had been back then, gaining comfort and reassurance from each other, feeling the affection they shared. The rest of the world didn't matter as they instinctively moved their faces closer, their eyes captivated by a silent language only they understood. They kissed, timid and uncertain at the first brush of their lips. She moved up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth firmer against his. He moved his lips in a slow circular motion, felt his heart pump wildly in his chest as her hands found their way to the nape of his neck. He darted his tongue out gently, groaned when she willingly parted her lips. A few light pecks and then he plundered her mouth leaving any sense of caution behind and pulled her back into his arms quickly and ardently. She moaned as she tasted him in turn, dragging her fingers along his curls. He pushed her back towards the counter and kissed the corner of her mouth eagerly, her cheek, gradually working his way over the spot below her ear. He whispered, "You taste just the same," his voice rough and heavy with want.

"So do you," she panted, dragging his lips back to hers for another searing kiss.

He dragged the leather jacket off her shoulders, nudging his mouth to the bare flesh at the base of her neck. He nipped at it gently, providing him with a complimentary shiver in response. His mouth and hot tongue then feasted on her collarbone, one hand trapped in her chestnut waves as he angled her head to access her neck and collarbone as he desired as the other grabbed a breast and squeezed it tightly, his thumb finding its hardened peak through her shirt that made him produce a low growl. He never thought of slowing down, of providing tender ministrations. He was lost in lust and by her avid response so was she. She panted louder, her fingers moving to the buttons on his vest with rapid precision, her head escaping his grasp to allow her to plant kisses on his shirt covered chest. He kissed the top of her head as she went to town on his shirt buttons and he pulled at her jacket's arms again to divest her of it, still caught at her elbows. After a few moments he laughed heartily as he couldn't manage it with her hands busy on his shirt. She stopped what she was doing and looked up at him before assessing their predicament herself. She laughed in turn and he placed his two hands on her face and kissed her soundly. "More haste less speed," he quipped upon releasing her. She took a deep breath, noticed his carefree expression of utter joy and an infectious smile spread across her face in reaction to it. He grinned wider still, placing a tender kiss on her lips. "It's always been you, Teresa Lisbon. And always will be, it seems."

As her smile threatened to eclipse his, the cell phone in her jacket sounded. "Leave it," Jane said, moving at a slower and more tender pace now as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Might be the hospital," she shrugged, shifting her jacket back to her shoulders to fish the phone out from her inside jacket pocket.

When she looked at the screen Jane blinked rapidly in reaction to her changed expression. It was like all the light had been pushed out of her instantly and a hailstorm of guilt had suddenly rained down on her. He didn't have to ask to see the name on the phone. She shook her head as she continued to peer at the screen. Before she could do more than stare, he took the cell off her, making her look up at him in surprise and horror. He saw Ryan's name and he declined the call, placing the phone on the counter beside them.

"Call him later," he told her. "Or...don't ever again. I don't care which." He placed his hands on her face again and leaned down to look into her eyes. "It's over with him. All right? It's done."

The phone rang again, startling her from her shell-shocked expression.

"Don't-"

"I have to," she said with fierce determination, pushing past him to grab the cell.

Jane watched as she took the call, her eyes closed the entire time as Ryan talked. Eventually she spoke in almost a whisper, her voice without any cadence, "Hey, Ryan. That's great. Uh...yeah...I'll...I'm on my way. Yes, I'll grab some ice cream at the store." She paused, glanced at Jane who shook his head and pointed a livid dark look in her direction that made her close her eyes again and listen to the call. She snapped into the phone, "Yes, I know strawberry is her favourite kind. Have to go. Yes, I'm fine. See you soon."

She ended the call to find Jane buttoning up his shirt and peering at her with an expression so cold she hardly recognised him.

"Patrick-"

"Save it, Teresa. I don't know what the hell game you're playing with me-"

"I'm not!"

"No?" He laughed without humour. "Then what the hell is happening with us? You told me to lay off. I did. I...I made an effort to keep my distance and as soon as I did you come here and..." He shook his head in confusion. "What did you expect to happen when you showed up at my door and..."

"I didn't come here to have sex with you, if that's what you think!"

"No? Maybe not. But things were heading fast that way, sweetheart, that's for damn sure."

"I didn't plan it! Of course I didn't. I just wanted to thank you."

"Yeah, I got that message when you stuck your tongue down my throat," he said derisively. "You're welcome."

She gaped at him. "You son of a bitch! How dare you-"

He bore down on her. "How dare I? I'm not the one trying to have her cake and eat it too!"

She jabbed a finger into his chest. "No? I thought that's what your so called marriage was based on."

He laughed humourlessly, "Nice shot even if it was a cheap one. What the hell are you doing with that guy? You don't belong with him."

"Yes, I do. This was a mistake." She stammered, "I-I got confused...after what happened to Stan earlier-"

"So I took advantage?" he scoffed. "Must have been another woman who practically ripped my shirt buttons off, then."

"I never said that! We were both at fault."

"No, we weren't. What happened between us was not a mistake. You staying with your boyfriend - that is."

"You don't understand-"

"Yes, I do. You feel obligated...trapped...I don't know...whatever. You're doing him no favours lying in his bed and wishing I was there instead."

"Wow, your ego knows no bounds, does it? I don't do that."

His eyes darkened and he lowered his voice as he invaded her personal space more. "Yes, you do. Believe me, I've been there. Pretending it's my fingers touching you, not his. My lips. You probably haven't had sex with the lights on since I came back into your life."

He came a step closer to her again until they were face to face, lust laced with the anger in his eyes. "I felt it tonight, that build up of passion inside you finally finding a release. He's a good man but there's no way he lights the fire in you like I can and you know it."

As his eyes flicked to her lips she felt the heat from him sear through her insides again. "You want passion?" she just got out. He frowned through his smirk and she slapped him hard across the face, knocking him back a few steps, taking the opportunity to grab her purse and make a dash for the door before slamming it shut behind her.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20 – A New Chapter

She'd managed to get through dinner at her brother's house with a relative amount of ease. Feeding and putting the children to bed along with the arrival of the whirlwind that was James Lisbon was enough of a distraction to keep her mind off Patrick Jane.

Mostly.

Karen had come home ten minutes earlier and the two women washed dishes side by side as Ryan and Jimmy competed in some video game in the living room.

"Wow, talk about a stereotypical scene, eh?" Karen said with a laugh. "Two women chained to the sink while the men laze on the sofa with beers. Feels like I'm in a 70s sitcom."

Lisbon chuckled and passed her a plate. "Let's not make a habit out of it."

"No chance. As soon as Stan's home I'm putting him on dish duty." She let go of a sudden ragged breath a second later. "Thank god he's going to be okay."

Lisbon put her arm around her and hugged her quickly. "Yeah, I know, me too. Even if he is a pain in the ass-"

"-He's our pain in the ass," the other woman finished for her with a laugh, wiping a tear from her eye.

Lisbon breathed out and began scrubbing at a plate again.

"You okay?" Karen asked. "You seem...distracted."

"I'm fine," Lisbon shrugged with a smile. "Been quite a day, that's all. Just tired. You must be the same."

Karen paused and licked her lips. "That was nice of Patrick to come to the hospital and get that doctor to come talk to us. You'll thank him for me, won't you?"

Lisbon looked to the heavens. She'd thanked him quite enough for one evening. "Yeah, of course," she replied quickly, her eyes towards the sink again.

Karen put the drying cloth down and folded her arms across her chest. "Okay, what's going on with you?"

Lisbon faced her. "What? Nothing. I told you-"

"No, that's not it. Spit it out, Teresa."

Lisbon closed her eyes and shook her head. "You have enough going on-"

"Is it Stan?"

"What?"

"Did they tell you something at the hospital that they didn't tell me? If there's something wrong with him and you're trying to work out how to break the news-"

"No! It's...it's nothing like that, I promise."

Karen breathed out. "Then what is it?"

"I swear, it's not important. Don't worry about it."

"Teresa? Come on, we're friends, right? You think I'm going to sleep tonight with that brave idiot brother of yours in the hospital? Give me something apart from him to think about."

Lisbon nodded towards the back door. "Okay, then. But outside."

Karen's eyebrows hit her forehead. "Ooh, sounds mysterious," she smiled. "Should I bring some wine?"

"No. Bourbon."

"Oh shit, that bad?" her sister in law smirked.

Lisbon puffed out a breath. "Yep, that bad."

* * *

"Oh my god, you kissed Patrick?" Karen whispered as they sat on the steps leading to the back garden, a bottle of bourbon between them.

Lisbon picked up the bottom and took a long swig, making a face as the amber liquid burned her throat. "That's the PG version of what went down but yes."

"Wow," Karen said with a shake of her head, taking the bottle and sipping it.

Lisbon looked to her knees. "I've never cheated on anyone in my life. I feel terrible, Karen."

"Yeah, I'm sure. I thought it was weird how you could hardly look at Ryan during dinner. Wondered why you'd let Jimmy whitter on like he did too. You'd normally tell him to shut up when he goes on about being famous one day."

"What the hell am I going to do?" Lisbon asked.

"What do you want to do?"

Lisbon shook her head. "That's just it. I haven't got the faintest idea."

"Pros and cons?"

Lisbon glared at her with a smile. "Are you seriously suggesting I draw up some kind of scorecard between two men? Now never mind those 70s sitcoms, now we're in one of those damn chick flicks."

Karen rolled her eyes. "Fine. No list. But they must have good points and bad points. So...let's start with...kissing." She grinned at Lisbon sideways and took a sip of bourbon with a giggle.

Lisbon pulled the bottle from her hands with a smile. "I swear, you have no ability to drink, you should be ashamed to call yourself a Lisbon at all."

Karen produced a giggle that turned into a long sigh. Serious again, "You know what you have to do, Teresa. Like you said, you're not a cheater. And even if Patrick isn't the man for you, it's quite obvious to me now that Ryan isn't either. You'd never have gone there with Patrick if you were truly happy with Ryan. It's as simple as that."

"But I owe him so much, Karen-"

"You owe him the ability to find someone else more if you're not the one for him."

She shook her head. "Things were just getting back on track when Patrick returned. If he hadn't then we'd be fine."

"You'd still be passing time with him, you mean."

Lisbon drew her head back. "I thought you liked Ryan."

She shrugged. "I do. He's a great guy. But...that was before I saw the chemistry you have with Patrick."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's never been a problem. The 'spark'. Like a damn firework display sometimes the way he looks at me when we're alone."

Karen nudged her shoulder. "Ooh, do tell," she laughed.

"Shut up," Lisbon laughed. "But a relationship can't be built on that alone. We disagree on so many things. He has no tolerance for authority, procedures of any kind..."

"Jeez, Teresa, you're not recruiting an agent, you know."

Lisbon took another swig of the bottle. "I'm just saying that we don't always move in the same direction whereas Ryan and I pretty much agree on everything."

Karen brought the bottle to her lips again. "Sounds pretty boring to me," she muttered into it.

Lisbon ignored the dig, putting it down to Karen's drinking. "It's more complicated than it sounds."

Her sister in law looked at her solemnly. "Or are you just making it more complicated because you're afraid of fully allowing someone into your heart?"

The back door opened behind them and Ryan popped his head out. He grinned at the two women with a bottle of bourbon between them. "Is there a party I wasn't invited to?"

Karen got up from the step, Ryan providing a steadying hand as she swayed a little. "Just got up a little too fast," she remarked.

"Yeah, of course that's what it was," he smiled, winking at Lisbon who had also got to her feet and was dusting off her jeans. She said to Karen, "You need a hand-?"

"I'm good," Karen smiled, "a glass of water and I'll be fine. One good thing about being a light drinker is that I sober up pretty quickly." She went inside and Ryan smiled at her back before turning to face Lisbon.

"Didn't mean to interrupt. Just wanted to check on you. You okay?" he asked softly as he approached her. "With all your brother's talk about his rock star career at the dinner table I hardly got a chance to speak to you since the hospital. You looked upset when you arrived here earlier. He's going to be fine, you know, Teresa. Worst part's over."

"Yeah, I know," she said as a truckload of grief unloaded itself onto her chest. Naturally he thought her sombre mood was attributed to her brother's near miss.

He rubbed her back soothingly and she swallowed hard as he kissed her temple. She closed her eyes. She had to tell him what she'd done.

"You going to be okay here?" he asked. "It' just...I have that big deposition in San Francisco in the morning and I still have some prep work to do-"

"Of course," she said immediately. Damn, she couldn't tell him now, that was for sure. It was a huge case for him and he was going to be lead prosecutor in it. He'd never be able to concentrate if she admitted to her tryst with Patrick at this moment. She looked up at him with a smile. "Go. It's important for you. I'll stay here until morning, give Karen some help with the kids...and Jimmy."

He chuckled, "The biggest kid of them all. You sure?"

"Absolutely."

He bent down and placed a tender kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes, willing herself to feel more than she did from it. "Love you," he said softly with another peck.

"Me too," she smiled.

As they entered the kitchen he grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair. His back to her, she blurted out quickly, "When you're done with this case...we...we should really talk about us. About...where we are, I mean."

He shrugged his jacket on. "Sounds ominous. Something I need to worry about?" he asked, with some nervousness in his tone.

She shrugged, "No. I just think we need to talk about some...stuff."

"Not like you to want to have a deep and meaningful."

"Well, I'm trying to open up more. But after the case, it'll wait. You need to concentrate on that right now."

"Jeez, you're right about that, I do. I'm excited to be lead but it's gonna be a tough one to win. Evidence is largely circumstantial..."

As he began to talk about his case she knew what she had to do. She had no idea if things were ever going to work out with Patrick Jane but she needed to end things with Ryan.

* * *

She arrived at the CBI the following day. Fortunately no pressing cases meant she had time to help Karen out in the morning. She'd even managed to bully Jimmy into doing his part. During the night she'd decided to tell Patrick everything, to come clean about all of it. She took a purposeful step forward as she exited the elevator and a brown leather couch almost hit her in the face.

"Whoa, sorry, Agent Lisbon," one the movers said, gesturing for the man at the other end to move the couch in a different direction.

"What's going on?" she asked, her eyes on the couch. "Why are you moving that?"

"Mr Jane's orders I was told," the sweaty man in overalls replied.

As he nodded to the other man to continue she asked, "Where are you taking it?"

"Second floor. Ray Haffner's team."

"Haffner?" Lisbon gasped. "Are you sure?"

"Yep," he replied. He focused on his partner at the other end. "Come on, Marty, put your back into it."

As they passed her she shook her head. "What the hell?" she said to herself.

When she arrived in the bullpen Rigsby was on his feet immediately. Animated, "What's happening with Jane, boss? They just moved his couch."

"I-I have no idea," she admitted.

"Wayne!" Van Pelt piped up. She spoke to Lisbon. "How's Stan doing?"

"Oh yeah, sorry boss," Rigsby said sheepishly.

"He'll be fine," Lisbon replied distractedly, looking at the empty space beside the wall. She breathed out. "Have either of you seen Jane this morning?" she asked them both.

"No," they replied in unison.

She nodded and turned on her heels with a tut. "Get back to work."

As she walked back towards the elevators Cho spoke as he turned a page in his book. "Told you this would end in disaster."

* * *

Too impatient to wait for the elevator she took the stairs to where Haffner's team were located. She saw Jane in the middle of the bullpen there, gesticulating to the movers where the couch should be placed. "Perfect guys, thank you," he smiled. Then he caught her standing behind them out of the corner of his eye.

"Morning, Agent Lisbon," he said with a smile that never made it to his eyes. "What brings you to Organized Crime?"

She stormed up to him. "Seriously? This is...you just leave the team without telling me? How...how did you even get this arranged so quickly?"

His tone was devoid of emotion. "I spoke to Minelli last night. Told him I needed a change. Said that I'd taught you guys as much as I could and it was time to work my magic elsewhere. He recommended Haffner's team. Simple as that. You haven't talked to Minelli yet, then?"

"No," she said, steadfastly ignoring his egotism. She'd received a message from Minelli asking to call him but she had suspected it was just to enquire about Stan and was planning on dropping by to see him when she arrived at work.

She breathed out and said softly, "Look, Patrick-"

"Teresa!" Ray Haffner's voice boomed behind her. "Trying to poach your boy back already?"

"Haffner," she greeted as she turned around with a false smile. "How are you?"

"Better now with Patrick's help. He's only been here an hour and produced two leads for us. Surprised you let him go so easily."

"Oh, shucks," Jane smiled with faux modesty.

She smiled at Haffner. "You might not be so grateful when you see the paperwork he makes for you."

Haffner laughed as he moved to one of his agent's desks further away and produced a file to discuss with him. He called back to her, "Sounds like sour grapes to me, Teresa."

Haffner busy, she turned back to Jane. Quietly, "Can we talk? Privately?"

He looked into her eyes. "Why? Is there any point? Do you still have a boyfriend?"

"Well, yes-"

"Then there's nothing left to discuss."

"Patrick, please don't be so stubborn. Let me explain-"

"I don't want to hear it, Teresa. I'm done."

She drew her head back in surprise. "Just like that? After...after everything you don't even want to talk about it?"

He shrugged. "I'm done talking. It's time for a fresh start. A proper one, this time. He turned his tone softer but still detached, "Look, I appreciate you finding me a job I like. And...if it's too difficult to see me so often around here I'll...I'll offer my services to Sac PD-"

"No," she interjected. "I...I don't want you to leave the CBI because of me."

He shrugged with a smile. "Well, we'll see how it goes. Haffner's an ass but it might work out if he takes the stick out of it occasionally."

As he continued to look at her he dropped his bravado and sighed. Softly, "The thing is...I...maybe I was thinking about our history so much I saw things between us I wanted to see. Even...felt things I wanted to feel. I thought we could rekindle what we had but we're different people than we were back then, Teresa. We can't just pretend the last decade didn't happen to either one of us. Coming to work for Haffner was never meant as some kind of betrayal or payback for you leaving last night. Although perhaps I did react out of anger to begin with. But you said yourself it might be better if we were on different teams. I just...I just can't see you every day. At least not at close quarters. Not right now. I'm only going to make a fool of myself again if I do."

She looked up at him with a sad smile. Maybe what he needed was the real fresh start he talked about. She'd helped him get back on his feet but he didn't need her now. He was stronger than when she'd met him for the second time and he'd found a path in life he liked. She'd accomplished her mission to make him believe he was worth something, or at least set him on his way into believing it. Being away from her was the best way to flourish after that. He deserved some happiness in his life, some joy out of it, he was a much better person than he thought he was. She had no right to keep the hold on him she knew she had now, to bring him down a road that would more than likely end in darkness. Letting him go would be better. Because he was certainly correct in her case, she was no longer the girl he'd met ten years earlier.

But being treated like her had made her feel so good though and not so irrevocably damaged. Wistfully she reminded herself that everything comes to an end, sooner or later. Maybe they were always fated to miss their chance. Maybe that's how it was supposed to be.

"Okay," she replied quietly. "I understand. And I wish you the best here, Patrick. I really do hope you find what you need to be happy."

* * *

 **A/N: So I'm sure a lot of you hate me now...But I promise I have a plan!**


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 - Surprised

She knocked back the dregs of the black coffee on her desk, making a face as its bitter coldness hit the back of her throat. She sighed and leaned over her desk again, scribbling on a sheet of paper in front of her. A tap came to her door. Instantly she imagined it was Jane, he seemed to always appear at night time in her office for a post work day chat before they both went back to their respective homes, often with some sugary snack or take out to pass the time.

Then the realisation hit her. Of course it wasn't him, he hadn't stopped by to see her in the fortnight since he'd joined Haffner's team. They'd seen each other around the building a handful of times but had only participated in small talk, seconds long. Each time she saw him fleetingly she wanted to extend those seconds more and more.

She looked up to see Virgil Minelli come through her door and she smiled at him with a nod.

"Hey, boss, what's up? Burning the midnight oil?" she asked with a weary smile.

He gave her one of his looks that she knew well. Concerned but aggrieved. "I hear you've been doing the same lately." He said the words in a question, silently asking for her comment.

She shrugged. "Some tough cases last few days, that's all."

"Yes, I know. You missing Jane?"

Well, that was a question she didn't even want to think about on a personal level. "He's a loss to the team but we're coping. We did okay before he arrived and we're doing okay now. Might take us a little longer to close cases but less paperwork when we do, right?"

"Hmmm. Haffner's been complaining to me about the crapstorms that follow Jane on every case."

Her lips involuntarily curved upwards that she tried to contain. "Oh? That's a shame."

She couldn't hold the same smile back and Minelli shook his head at her. "Play nice, Teresa." Although the old curmudgeon had a twinkle in his eyes as he said it that made her laugh.

"What'd you tell him? Haffner, I mean?" she asked.

"I told him Jane created the crapstorms and it was his job to keep him in line from creating cataclysmic ones." He leaned forward and eyed her closely. "I could always arrange for him to transfer back to Serious Crimes. While Haffner is enjoying the benefit of Jane's unique brand of crime solving in case closures, I'm not sure he's quite enjoying the additional work that goes along with having him as an asset."

She shook her head quickly before the notion had time to gestate and she agreed with him. "No. I...I don't think that would be a good idea. Haffner just needs to learn to be a little more flexible and quit babysitting him, I'll talk to Ray, see if I can smooth the waters."

"Okay. Well, I'd appreciate that." He straightened up again. "Now, I better get home. Damn dog has to be fed."

She smirked, "You were the one who decided getting a puppy was a good idea."

"Actually it was my doctor who recommended it. Said I needed to lose weight by walking it and it's supposed to help with stress levels. Should send the damn mutt over to him, see how his stress levels cope with it chewing on every pick of furniture I own." With a shake of his head he bolted back through the door again. "Get home soon, Lisbon, do you hear me?" he called to her over his shoulder.

She smiled at the thought of Minelli tearing into the puppy. The man was all bluster, she'd seen him carrying bags from pet shops four times since he'd gotten the dog, he was more attached to it every day though he'd deny that to his grave. She laughed and picked up her phone, dialling Haffner's number.

* * *

"Teresa!" Haffner smiled as he rose from his chair and waved her over to his table. They had arranged to meet for coffee on the rooftop cafe near the CBI offices the morning after Minelli's visit.

After ordering a coffee she said, "Haffner. Thanks for agreeing to meet me."

He smirked, "Always a pleasure, Teresa, you know that."

She flinched inwardly. He'd never come on to her directly or asked her out but she always came away from conversations with him like he'd undressed her with his eyes as he talked to her. This time was no different.

She came straight to the point. "I wanted to talk to you about Patrick Jane."

He smiled and raised an arrogant eyebrow. "Oh? You here to beg me to release him back to your team? I heard your closure rate is suffering."

She smiled a supercilious fake smile in return. "Still the highest in the CBI, Ray. Not that I care about the statistics. I prefer to catch bad guys than mull over the numbers. Maybe you'd increase yours if you did the same."

He laughed softly. "Point taken. So, Jane?"

"I just came to offer you some free advice about working with him. Who knows, maybe it'll help you out with those numbers you care about so much."

He leaned in further and narrowed his eyes at her. "Advice? Did you learn it from being his former boss or his former girlfriend?"

Her mouth dropped open and he grinned. "Come on, Teresa. You should know by now that news is out there in the rumour mill."

"Of course I know it is. We've never tried to hide we used to date a million years ago. I'm just surprised you'd be so unprofessional to mention it when I'm here to offer you my help." She got up from the table. "Of course, if you don't want my help-"

"Okay, I apologise, really I do," Haffner stammered, nodding to the chair opposite him again.

She glared at him for a second before she sat down again.

He repeated, "I'm sorry, okay? Of course I could do with your help." He breathed out. "I-I don't know what the hell he's thinking sometimes. He tells me one thing then does the complete opposite, withholds information until the very last minute then it's everything the team and I can do to catch up with whatever plan he's set in motion. He seems to take some kind of childish glee in humiliating me. If he didn't get such good results I swear I'd knock the pompous jerk out and sling his ass off my team."

She had to admit to feeling some childish glee herself in hearing Haffner's troubles with the wayward consultant. Maybe being left mortified a few times more would assist in knocking his own pomposity down a peg or two.

"I-I can't imagine why you'd ever have dated someone like him," he added with a shake of his head. "He's smart but...jeez, Teresa. He's a prick."

She sipped on her coffee that had just arrived, allowing her time to formulate her response. She wasn't about to discuss her dating choices with Ray Haffner of all people.

Before she had time to respond, he asked, "So, this advice you have for me on how to deal with him?"

"Yes. Uh...I was just going to say that if you extend your leash on Jane by just a little, you'll likely get better results. You need to trust him to get the job done, not get bogged down in the details so much."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I guess I can try that. If you think it'll help. Guess my background in security makes it difficult to trust people I've just met, especially those that like to yank my chains every chance they get. But...but I trust you, Teresa. So...okay, I'll give it a go. But if it comes back to bite me in the ass-"

"Feel free to blame me for the bad advice," she smiled.

He chuckled. "I will."

As they settled into silently sipping their beverages, he remarked as he looked out across the view of Sacramento to his side, "I really can't imagine you two dating. You're like chalk and cheese." He sighed, "Although I've seen him flirt with women, he's damn good at it when he wants to charm them, I'll admit that. Agent Connors certainly was smitten as soon as they started dating so guess there's no accounting for taste sometimes. And she's a helluva woman just like yourself. Just thankful she's not on my team. I'd watch out for Narcotics solve rate to drop if she doesn't regain some focus soon."

Lisbon's lips faltered over her coffee cup a fraction long enough to scald them with the hot liquid. Fortunately, Haffner was looking over the balcony and hadn't noticed her shock on learning that Jane was dating someone.

She knew the woman in question. Long blonde hair with legs that went on forever. But behind the good looks lay a sassy and intelligent woman who'd taken down two drug lords. Lisbon's stomach somersaulted. She told herself he had a right to date whomever he chose, naturally. He was a free agent. It was absolutely none of her business. She'd ran from his advances without a real explanation. He, in turn, was doing whatever he needed to do to move on in the here and now than live in the past. As he advised her he would. She was supposed to be happy for him. He'd selected a very nice woman, too. Someone Lisbon liked and admired. She should be happy for him, she told herself again. But as the pit grew larger in her stomach she exhaled loudly, gaining Haffner's attention back to her again.

He frowned. "Teresa? You feeling okay? You look...pale."

She set her cup down with a loud clank against the saucer. "Sorry, yeah. Too much caffeine, I guess."

"Tell me about it. A cop's burden to bear, huh?" he laughed.

"Yeah," she smiled, gaining control of herself again.

* * *

She digested the news of Patrick Jane's new paramour over the following two days. She'd casually mentioned it to Van Pelt who'd been happy to fill her in on the latest water cooler talk of the new romance around the CBI. It had indeed sounded like her former lover and Elise Connors had hit it off remarkably well, often seen going out for lunch and coffee together. There had even been talk of them attending the opera together the day Haffner had unwittingly dropped the bombshell on her.

Luckily, a case that took her and her team out of town had meant she hadn't seen him around the CBI since she'd heard. But it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed. She was concerned that perhaps he was moving too quickly in his new relationship but was she meant to tell him that? Would he read it as sour grapes? Some form of jealousy on her part? She had to admit the green eyed monster might be colouring her version of his new entanglement, even if she had no legitimate right to feel that emotion.

* * *

"Hey, how's the case going?" Lisbon asked as she finally lay in her own bed the following night and talked to Ryan on the phone.

He'd barely been back to Sacramento as the biggest case of his life had been gaining more and more media attention, only adding to the pressure on him to gain a conviction.

Kevin Nichols, a low income warehouse worker aged forty six, was being charged with three counts of murder against prostitutes in San Francisco. The case, already complex enough, had been further complicated by a change in the trial lawyer for the defendant. A well known, brilliant and normally extremely expensive defense attorney called Adam Newell had jumped on board to defend Nichols and was trying the case pro bono. He'd agreed to represent Nichols for no fee in the hope he would win and thus secure further prospective paying clients in the future with the press attention he would receive in doing so. He was highly regarded and a bulldog in the courtroom.

"It's tough, Teresa. I-I just hope I can win it. Newell has swamped us in discovery."

"Then there must be something in there for you to find. He's trying to hide whatever it is by sending you everything."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I have people on it."

"You'll do great, Ryan."

"I hope so. I miss you."

She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. "Yeah, me too."

"How's Stan doing?"

"Much better, he's home and even Jimmy has hung around to help out with the kids. Actually, he's been pretty great with them. Stan's accident seems to have brought him back down to earth." She laughed, "For now, anyway. No doubt he'll be applying to go into space in a few days time."

Ryan laughed. "No doubt. And how are you coping without Jane in your team?"

She'd told him that Jane had wanted to try different departments to see where he might fit in within law enforcement. There was no mistaking the relief in her boyfriend's tone when she'd broken that news to him.

"Okay, the team miss him, though. But apart from that it's fine. I heard he was causing trouble as usual but I gave Haffner some tips on how to deal with him the other day. Haven't heard how that's worked out yet for both of them." She chuckled, "Probably a recipe for disaster, still."

"Does it sound terrible for me to say that I'm glad you two aren't seeing each other every day anymore? Especially when I'm stuck here."

As she went to talk she saw an incoming call flash up on her phone. "Sorry, I have another call coming in, must be a case this time of night. I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Sure, no problem, sweetheart. I love you. Be careful. Talk soon."

"Bye," she said quickly, disconnecting the call and picking up the other one. "Lisbon."

Minelli's voice came through the receiver. "Lisbon. I need you at a crime scene immediately."

For the second time in days her stomach swirled as her rate rate picked up. This time it was for a very different reason. She knew that serious tone Minelli reserved for one explanation alone.

"Red John," she stated.

She heard him huff in response. "Yes, the bastard has killed a student in the campus of the State University."

She was off the bed already and finding clothes to wear as she turned the phone to loudspeaker. "You sure it's him?"

"Sounds like it. Partridge and his techs are assessing. You tell me when you get there if it's him. I'm en route at the moment."

"Okay, I'll get my team to meet us there."

As she went to disconnect, Minelli added, "I called Jane in on this too. I want him to work the scene along with you and your team."

She stopped dressing immediately. "What? Why? He doesn't work in Serious Crimes anymore."

"That pain in the ass is still the best asset we've ever had. No time for departmental boundaries on this one. Haffner will have to live with it. It's Red John, Lisbon. Maybe he can see something we haven't now he's been working at the CBI for a while. Fresh set of eyes can't hurt."

She took a breath and nodded. "Yeah...yeah, you're right, of course. All right, I'll see you there."

* * *

She stared up at the red face on the wall, barely aware of the techs milling around her.

It was him. She could feel it before she even looked at the body of the nineteen year old brunette in the bed. Another woman dead when she was the agent in charge of the investigation. Another failure on her watch.

"It's him again, then," a voice said softly behind her.

She nodded, still staring at the gruesome art. She swallowed thickly to control her cadence into nonchalance. "Yeah. I heard Minelli called you in."

"Hmm," Jane said at her ear. "You okay with that?"

She turned to face him, caught offguard by the intensity of his eyes on her. Reading her response, naturally, and not the words she used. "Of course," she replied evenly. "I hope it wasn't a bad night for him to call you," she added, kicking herself for that statement a millisecond later.

He narrowed his eyes in cusiosity and then nodded. A slight smile washed over his lips. "It's an important case for you, so of course I answered the call no matter what other plans I had this evening."

"Minelli would appreciate your insight. Now you...now you know what you're doing in law enforcement." She tagged on, "Most of the time, anyway."

He smirked. "Such flattery. Watch out, you might inflate my ego with such words, Agent Lisbon," he responded with a smile. As she blushed slightly and went to move past him he touched her arm then whispered in her ear. "And just so you know, I'm not here because the case is important to Minelli or the CBI. I'm here because it's important to you."

Startled, she drew her gaze quickly to him.

He continued, "I have no idea why, Teresa. But I'll do whatever I can to help you catch him. I promise you that "


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Yes, finally an update to this story. I know it is very long overdue and I do apologise. My other fics and a busy real life recently left me** **little** **time to get back to this one. More timely updates will hopefully be forthcoming. Thank you for your patience.**

* * *

Chapter 22 – Reveal

Jane wandered around the dorm room Laura Cole was murdered in, his hands buried deep in his pockets as he looked at items on her dresser and photographs attached to the mirror. He could feel Lisbon's eyes boring into the back of his head.

"Anything?" she asked when neither of them had spoken for a long minute as techs continued to work around them and she'd finished assessing the scene. Textbook Red John was depressingly all she'd managed to come up with like every other crime scene of his she'd witnessed.

"She was a popular girl by the look of it. Drama society. Outgoing. Any boyfriend on the scene?"

"Not one in particular according to her best friend." She added as though as if it explained everything, "She was in college, Jane."

"Hmm. Guess you would know more about all that than I would," he mumbled as he narrowed his eyes at the contents of a bookshelf. Louder, "She studied Psychology?"

Lisbon nodded. "Yeah. She was on the Dean's list," she added, her voice tinged with regret.

"Smart plus attractive. He'd have enjoyed that."

"Enjoyed? How so?"

He turned towards her. "She was someone who was going to make something of her life, someone determined from what I can see here. She hadn't quite decided if she was going to be an Oscar-winning actress or some kind of counsellor but I've no doubt she would have achieved whatever aim she set herself. No boyfriend of any value, no distractions to stop her from realising whatever she set out to become. I'd imagine she was probably a lot like you in College although your goals were vastly different. You feel empathy towards her because of that. This case is more difficult for you than some others and not just because it's Red John."

He frowned at her then but said nothing as he appeared to consider his own last statement, practically reciting it again silently. His gaze was piercing as he openly read her reaction to it too. She took a breath. She had never seen him this focused at a crime scene. Gone were the occasional glimpses of humour, the audacity she'd become used to. He was deadly serious now, his expression unreadable to her. He was sizing her up but she had no idea what he'd concluded, if anything.

She moved matters back to the murder in front of them. "I-I guess. What did you mean about him enjoying it, though?"

He moved a step towards her. "She was someone special because she meant something to a lot of people. Many are going to miss her, Lisbon. Therefore, the bigger the thrill for him in extinguishing her light."

She frowned. "How...it sounds like you know a lot about Red John. But...but this is the first case of his you've investigated."

He licked his lips and nodded. "I may have been doing a little research into him in my spare time since I joined the CBI."

She gaped at him. "What?!"

Brett Partridge made his entrance to the room. "Hey, Lisbon." He paused and appraised Jane top to bottom. "Jane, didn't know you were back on the team. Thought you two had some sort of lovers' tiff," he smirked. "Or did you make one too many screw-ups, my friend, and got yourself sidelined?" he sniggered.

Jane rounded on him and cast him a look of stony disgust. "Come back later, you ghoul, we're busy."

Partridge laughed. Smugly, "Ah...no...no can do, amigo. My guys need to get finished up here. Boss's orders."

As Jane was about to retort Lisbon pulled on his arm. "Let's talk outside." She glared at Partridge. "And if I hear you disrespecting me or one of my people ever again I'll make sure your supervisor knows all about the vampire porn on your work computer, Partridge."

Partridge's already sallow complexion lightened considerably. Jane, knowing she'd made a direct hit with her unsubstantiated but undoubtedly correct jibe, parted a comment to him as Lisbon swept forward in front of him through the open doorway. "If you were a tad better looking you might get a part in one of those films yourself right about now."

* * *

She'd commandeered an empty break room at the end of the corridor, already pacing back and forth in it before Jane arrived.

"Look, Teresa-" he started.

"Don't Teresa me," she cut in.

He smirked. "Lisbon, then?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "I never asked you to look into Red John off the books. How...how could you do that without telling me? And...why would you even want to?"

"The correct question is why you didn't ask me to look at those files yourself long before now."

"Because Red John is none of your business."

"Minelli thinks differently now. And he's right. It's your biggest case and I'm the best asset the CBI has so, of course, it's my business. So I'll ask again, why _didn't_ you ask me to look over them? What were you afraid of me discovering?" He narrowed his eyes at her. "Whatever it is I haven't found it yet if your look of relief is anything to go by. Or is there another reason you don't want my involvement?"

His eyes turned into slits as he studied her further and lowered his tone. "Are you trying to protect me from something he's connected to, is that it?"

"I-I" she stammered, shaking her head.

He came to stand opposite her, dropped his voice to a soft whisper. "Whatever it is you can tell me, Teresa. Whatever is going on...or not going on between us...you can trust me with this. Whatever your personal attachment is to this killer-"

Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears and she shook her head. Then she cleared her throat and opted for an authoritative stance."Stop looking into him off the books. Am I clear?"

He raised an eyebrow and laughed quietly. "You really think you can treat me like one of your subordinates-"

She stiffened. "You're assigned to my team at the moment, so yes I damn well can."

He exhaled. Calmly, "Well, you're very welcome to try, of course, but if you think you issuing orders is going to get me to back off then you should know you're sadly mistaken. You should know me well enough by now that it'll only have the opposite effect. Easier if you just tell me before I figure out the connection for myself."

She opened her mouth to argue the point and then closed it sharply again. She rubbed her fingers across her furrowed brow and shook her head. "You're a damn pain in the ass, you know that," she mumbled.

He shrugged, unaffected, and stared her down.

She looked around and noticed people coming and going in the corridor outside the room, the nasal tones of Partridge ordering his team to take note of this and that piece of evidence.

"Not here," she said quietly, pinning him with a concerned and conspiratorial gaze. "I'll meet you alone tomorrow morning at the rooftop cafe." She sighed wearily. "Against my better judgement, I'll tell you everything then."

He smirked. "A secret rendezvous, huh?"

She rolled her eyes and tutted. "Yeah, something like that."

As she went to turn away he caught her arm. "Hey," he said softly, "it's going to be okay, all right? I'll help you figure out who he is and we'll catch him together."

She let go of a breath. "Yeah. That's what I was afraid you'd say."

* * *

Jane closed his front door and yawned loudly.

"You're back," a female voice said from behind the back of the couch.

"And you stayed," he said as he strolled over to Elise Connors as she lay on the couch, a book in her hands.

She looked up from it with sleepy eyes as he sat beside her. "How was it?"

He shrugged, pecked her lips. "I know I'll never get used to seeing one of those faces, that's for sure," he sighed.

"Hmm. Yeah, I don't envy Lisbon's team taking _him_ on."

"Hmm," he said. He took a breath and smiled at her. "You want me to make you something to eat?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm good. Had some cereal."

"Well, that's healthy," he smirked. "Sorry I had to run out."

"It's the job," she shrugged.

He patted her hip and moved off the couch. "Tea?" he called to her from the kitchen.

She got off the couch and yawned as she walked over to the counter behind him. "No thanks."

A few moments passed in silence as Jane went about his tea preparation.

"So, how was it working with her again?" Elise asked.

"Hmm?" Jane replied with his back to her, removing the milk from the fridge.

She laughed. "Don't play it coy with me, Patrick Jane."

He glanced around and quirked an eyebrow. "Coy?" he asked with a grin. "I don't think I've ever been called coy in my life."

"Come on. We said we'd be honest when we started this. Just some fun, remember? Some laughs and some good times? Nothing serious. You can talk to me about Lisbon, Patrick, I know it must have been kinda weird working on her team again after whatever went down between you."

"Listening to water cooler talk again, are you? You cops are so suspicious all the time," he replied with a smile, turning back to the kettle. "You do love your interrogations."

She rolled her eyes and removed her denim jacket from the back of the bar stool. "Fine, be like that," she said with a grin. "Gotta go."

He frowned at her. "You're not staying over? You upset with me over this?"

"No, course not. I have a raid first thing. Need to get my beauty sleep, that's all."

He openly trailed his eyes over her lithe body encased in a tight black sweater and skinny jeans. "I doubt that somehow."

"Yeah, whatever," she chuckled. She walked over and kissed him. "You think your charm works on everyone, do you?"

He kissed her back with a smirk. "On you it certainly seems to."

She grabbed her bag and shot him a wave as she opened the door to his apartment. "You got me there. Okay, see you tomorrow at work. We'll try to set something up for tomorrow night. Enjoy your brooding!"

As she closed the door he laughed before the smile fell from his face. It was quite easy being with Elise as their relationship stayed within mostly superficial boundaries, rarely moving beyond more than that. It suited them both and he certainly wasn't interested in pursuing more currently.

She was very easy on the eye too, he had to admit. And as shallow as that sounded it was mostly part of the appeal in the beginning. Also, she'd made it clear her career was her main focus, not a man in her life. She wasn't looking for something serious and he'd breathed a sigh of relief that he'd read that to be true from her. He was attempting to dip his toe into the dating world again after his failed attempts at securing Teresa's affections once more, not dive into another disastrous relationship his heart wasn't in from the beginning. Her company was a nice distraction, though, from the woman he was trying to get over and he was happy to provide Elise with much the same distraction from the pressures of her job.

He wasn't sure it helped that Elise's personality reminded him a little of Lisbon's at times – probably it did not as it only caused him think of her more frequently than less so (a point he didn't like to dwell on) - or maybe it was because she had that 'cop vibe' to her too like most of them did. A little hard around the edges but compassionate at the same time – it was an intriguing mix.

But that was where the similarities ended. She was more confident and assured than Lisbon in many ways, no doubt due to her growing up in a happily well-balanced family whereas the opposite was mostly true in Lisbon's case. Less damaged by the hardness of life learned from an early age. He'd liked that in her but found it disconcerting too, to be with someone with so little baggage. Even Melissa had a less than happy childhood. He was left feeling more unsure why she'd want to be with someone like him, even if it was just for some fun. With Teresa there had been no such disconnect. With Elise he felt like he was perpetually putting on a show to impress where he couldn't be himself.

He glanced at his reflection in the stainless steel cooker hood and rolled his eyes. Well, there was his looks, he supposed. They went a long way in allowing women to forgive his less than admirable personality traits and always had.

* * *

"Hey," he said, nodding to Lisbon as she sat in the cafe waiting for him. "Am I late for our secret assignation?" he smiled as he sat down opposite her. "Is there a code word I need to use?"

She played with a spoon at the side of her coffee cup. "Ha ha. No, you're right on time." She sighed, obvious she hadn't slept much the night before.

He ordered his tea with a wave of his hand before settling into the chair. When she didn't speak he said eventually, "Okay, I'm waiting."

She nodded and chewed on the inside of her mouth. "Yeah. Okay. Just...just gathering my thoughts."

She straightened up and checked they were in a quiet area of the cafe. "What I'm about to tell you no one but Minelli knows. Not even the team."

"Not even Ryan?" he challenged.

She blinked rapidly. "Okay, Ryan knows. Some of it. But no, not everything."

He raised an eyebrow at that piece of information as his tea was delivered. He smiled at the waiter and then looked back at her when he'd disappeared. "Well, you have me intrigued. Go on."

She breathed out. "You were right. There's a personal reason I want Red John caught."

A beat passed as she let the admission float in the air between them.

He shrugged. "You'll need to do a little better than that to impress me. I've known that all along."

She nodded. "Yeah...yeah, I guess you have." She played with her fingers for a few seconds as Jane calmly sipped his tea then breathed out. "Before I was given my own team a month or so before I met you again...before Melissa was murdered...I worked for an Agent called Sam Bosco." Her eyes shone with fondness. "I worked for him when I worked in San Francisco PD and he made the move to CBI a few years back, I followed a year or so later. He was the one who recommended me to Minelli when they were looking for an agent to fill out the Serious Crimes team."

Jane nodded. "A mentor, then." He frowned curiously, "Or something more than that?"

She blushed faintly. "Married."

He tilted his head to the side. "Well...that doesn't matter to some men-"

"Don't I know it," she bit back with quickly, shooting him a pointed look.

"Are we really about to have a discussion on fidelity?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

She shifted in her seat. "No. No, we're not. Anyway-"

"He was interested in you romantically, though, wasn't he?" he continued to prod.

She glared. "That's not why I got the job if that's what you're thinking. Nothing happened between us, Patrick."

He sighed. "I know that, Teresa. You're a helluva cop. Just trying to understand the basis of the relationship, that's all."

She nodded. "Okay. We were friends. Good friends. Nothing more. But...well, yeah...sometimes he intimated that maybe he'd like more than that. But he never acted on it and he never would have."

He nodded, satisfied. "Okay, go on."

"There was another agent on the team at the time. Before I recruited Van Pelt when I took charge of it. Guy called Hannigan. Sam called him 'old school', you know the type of man I mean?"

"Think so. Punch first and ask questions later type, you mean?"

"Well punching is going a little too far but...yeah, suppose you could say proper procedures didn't get in the way of him making a bust. And he had a temper, yeah. I never liked him from the moment I laid eyes on him-"

"Because he was a misogynist too?"

Lisbon frowned. "I never said he was."

Jane smiled. "He was, though, wasn't he?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Kept calling me 'little miss' and all this other crap from the minute I joined the team. Kept asking me to get him coffee and so on. Cho and Rigsby couldn't stand him when they were assigned to work with him too."

Jane stifled a laugh. "Tell me, how long did he hold on to his teeth talking to you like that?"

She rolled her eyes. "You get the picture of him, I take it?"

"I do. Bosco didn't chew him out about that type of behaviour?"

"Yeah, much good it did. Just resented me more so I told Sam to lay off and let me deal with it myself. But...but all that's not important. I'm used to all that chauvinist crap from similar types over the years. And, to begin with, I thought that's all he was. A sexist pig who was counting the days until his retirement."

"But then?"

"Then I noticed cases he was assigned to suddenly getting dismissed. Evidence going missing or material witnesses vanishing into thin air. Professional Standards were on his case at times but...but he always seemed to be able to wriggle free from any blame somehow."

Jane leaned forward. "You suspected a conspiracy of some sort?"

She nodded, sighed. "Yeah...I-I thought there might be."

"You go to Bosco about it?"

"Not right away. In the beginning, I was new and...and I...and I wasn't certain. Not 100%. And I had no proof since he was being cleared anytime something went awry, always seemed to be lab errors or witnesses getting last minute nerves and running out on testifying."

"The fact he was being cleared on every occasion gives your conspiracy theory more weight. That someone from Professional Standards was also involved in some type of cover-up."

She nodded and pursed her lips. "Exactly what I suspected. So before I took it to Bosco for him to take further up the line I wanted to collect evidence first, take notes on every case he was working, and investigate him off the books. I looked into him off and on for the first two years I worked on Bosco's team."

She puffed out a breath and looked off to the side for a second, lost in her thoughts.

Jane touched her hand. Concerned, "What happened? Where does Red John fit into this, Teresa?"

She continued to look away. "I was getting nowhere with checking financials and so on. I was almost at the point of giving up and had started to think I might be paranoid about the whole thing. That he was just a lousy cop. Then I heard him on a burner phone one day and him recite an address back to whoever was on the other end when he thought no one was listening. He was making plans to meet them the following night. Idiot was using an interrogation room and I was leaving the one next to it so naturally, I listened in. I knew by his tone whatever it was it wasn't above board. And when I checked the address it was an abandoned property so it only made me more suspicious that he was involved in something sketchy."

"What did you expect to find?"

She shrugged and let go of a breath. "I don't know really. Maybe a payoff, something like that." She focused on Jane again. "After sleeping on it I told Bosco the next morning about my suspicions and what I'd be doing in my spare time."

"When did all this happen?"

"Couple of months before I saw you again."

"He believed you?"

She smiled sadly. "Yeah, yeah, he did, actually. Couldn't believe I'd been doing all that behind his back for so long. He was pretty angry about that part."

"You didn't expect him to believe you," Jane stated.

"I-I don't know, really. Hannigan and Bosco went way back. And any time any of us complained about him he'd wave it off and tell us to get on with our jobs and stop worrying about someone else's. I wasn't sure he'd believe me over him. But he did."

"Then it doesn't sound like he was too surprised that Hannigan was perhaps on the take."

"I didn't realise it at the time but no, no he wasn't. Far from it, in fact."

As her tone turned increasingly wistful, Jane asked softly, "What happened to Bosco, Teresa? How did he die? Did Hannigan kill him?"

She blinked quickly and he sighed. "You keep using the past tense where he's concerned. And you feel guilty about his death. And you're in charge of the team now, not him. And Hannigan has never been mentioned. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the events are related."

She nodded and tears glistened in her eyes. "He said he'd go with me to check out what Hannigan was up to. When we got there and Hannigan went inside he ordered me to stay in the car and he followed him in."

"You had no other backup?"

She shook her head. "It wasn't an official operation, Patrick. And Sam was my supervising agent. Plus, in case Hannigan...or whoever else was inside made a run for it I needed to stay behind the wheel. I wish now we'd told Cho and Rigsby about what had been going on but I wanted to keep them out of it until I was sure. And Bosco was of the same mind. To tell no one until we had hard proof. He was adamant on that point."

She looked off to the side again as she played with her coffee cup handle. "After a few minutes I heard shots go off inside. I was there in seconds but..." she licked her lips.

"Bosco was down already."

She nodded and wiped a stray tear from her cheek before looking back at him. "Yeah. And Hannigan was nowhere to be seen. No one else there either. He had one bullet in the leg and one at the side of his neck. I knew if he moved an inch he'd bleed out fast. And I knew he didn't have long nevertheless and that an ambulance would never arrive on time to save him. He knew it too."

She took a long sip of coffee and Jane noticed her hands shake around its sides. "I put pressure on his neck and tried to keep him conscious. Then...then when I took out my phone to call for an ambulance he told me not to. Yelled at me as best he could not to call anyone. I thought it was because he knew he was going to die anyway-"

"But it was more than that. He didn't want it known you were with him when he'd gone to confront Hannigan. He wanted it to look that he'd acted alone."

"Wow, you're good at this stuff. Yeah. Exactly."

"He was afraid of you being targeted in the future – either by Hannigan or whoever he was supposed to meet there, I'm assuming. Where was he, by the way? He left through the back?"

She nodded. "Yeah, guess so. Whoever he was meeting more than likely heard the shots and stayed away too. I asked Sam about him and what had gone down between them but... he just said Red John's man, over and over again. Kept saying I was right about him. Then he said to be careful who I trusted - that there were more of them, many more. He told me to leave him there and call only Minelli about what had happened, no one else. That he would know what to do next."

Jane's eyebrows shot up. "You and Minelli covered up what happened that night?"

She nodded. "Yeah, yeah, we did."

"Minelli and Bosco were already investigating whatever this is by the sound of it. And it sounds like Hannigan was only the tip of the iceberg. And that Red John has a network of cops working for him."

"Yes, we believe so. We don't know how far its reach is."

"You've been working with Minelli on this since Bosco's murder?"

"Yes."

He puffed out a breath. "There's still quite a bit to all this, isn't there? Never mind explaining how you covered up one agent's murder and another agent's disappearance on the same night?"

"Yeah, that wasn't easy. And yes, there's more I need to tell you."

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry about the long drawn out conversation in this chapter and little Jane and Lisbon romance in it but I did have to get into the Red John stuff sooner or later! But romance is definitely not** **off** **the cards, I assure you.**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Apologies for the delay in getting back to this story: real life, holidays and a diversion to some other fics have eaten away at my time. I'll try to be more timely from now on. Thank you. Sorry, this chapter is a little dialogue heavy, but a lot needed to be said, I felt. You may need to recap the previous chapter quickly to remember where it was left, I certainly did!**

 ** _Broken_ update coming up next, hopefully, next week.  
**

 **Also, have just started a new collaboration fic called _Clandestine Cover Up_ with the mightily talented DirtyPopsicles. Hope you can catch it if you haven't already, it's referenced under my name.**

* * *

Chapter 23 – A Clue and a Confession

Silence ensued between them as Lisbon's coffee was topped up and Jane took in the news of the conspiracy she had just divulged to him. She drew a long breath to allow her words to settle before taking a small calming sip of her Americano.

"How _did_ you and Minelli cover up Bosco's death?" he asked when they were without the company of waiting staff once again.

"Like I said, it wasn't easy that night. I called Minelli as Sam had asked. Luckily, I suppose, if that is the term, Sam had filled him in on what I'd been doing as soon as I'd revealed it to him. They'd agreed to tell me everything they knew once the meet with Hannigan was over. He was great, really, considering how close he and Sam were and the news I'd just delivered. He took control of it all. He told me to leave the same way I came and to clear my prints off anything I might have touched before I did. Told me to go home and act normal and that he'd take care of it."

"That really can't have been easy, just to walk away."

She shook her head. "It was against everything I'd ever been taught as a cop. Or a human, come to that. To leave a crime scene with a colleague down, to not call the paramedics...It felt like..." A tear escaped.

"You were running out on your friend," Jane said softly. "That you had let him down."

She nodded and pursed her lips. "Felt like the worst version of myself that night. Dirty. Guilty."

"It wasn't your fault, Teresa." He placed his hand on top of hers.

"Bosco wouldn't have been anywhere near that property if I hadn't told him about it."

"But _you_ would have. Alone." He took her hand in his across the table. "And I don't much care if this makes me sound like a cold and selfish bastard but...but I'm very much relieved you told him about your suspicions. The alternative is...well, it's not something I even want to imagine."

A soft smile formed on her lips of its own accord as their eyes met. "I can't imagine not having you in my life again now," he continued. "To never have had that chance...to have missed out on that..." He shook his head and laughed softly. "Even if our...personal situation is currently highly complicated."

She laughed quietly. "I don't even know what to call what we are to each other these days, either."

He let go of her hand and leaned back with a heavy sigh. He smiled, "Well, why do we have to label it as one thing or another, huh?" He took a sip of tea. "So, Minelli had someone move the body...or?"

"Nothing so complicated. He just let him stay where he was that night. Then, the next morning, when Bosco didn't arrive for work he had his cell phone pinged-"

"Bosco's wife didn't report him as not coming home?"

"She was visiting her sister out of state so, no, she wouldn't have missed him until the following day when she was due to call him. But...I kept thinking about her all that night as I lay awake. I knew he was dead and she didn't. Seemed so wrong, Patrick. It _was_ so wrong."

"She got a night's sleep she wouldn't have by not knowing, Teresa. Her knowing sooner wasn't going to make a blind bit of difference. Different if he'd been in the hospital fighting for his life."

"Maybe if I'd called the paramedics-"

"You've been a cop a long time, yes?" he interrupted.

She frowned. "Yes, so?"

"So, you've already said he wasn't going to make it. And that he knew it too. You both had enough experience to know death when you see it staring you in the face. You need to stop second-guessing what you did that night."

"Put yourself in my shoes and I doubt you'd feel any different."

He shrugged. "Yeah, probably I'd beat myself up too. But you shouldn't. You need to stop punishing yourself. And, not to sound callous, but no amount of rehashing that night's events will bring him back now."

She played with the spoon on her saucer. "Yeah...yeah, I know. Sorry," she sighed.

"Is that when you told Ryan? That night?"

She shook her head. "Not for a few days. He was at his own place that night so I just went back to mine. I was...numb, I suppose. But he knew there was something wrong as soon as he saw me the next day. I tried to just say I was upset because of Sam being found that way but-"

"Yes, you're a terrible liar. He knew there was more to it. So, what did you tell him?"

"All I've told you so far, pretty much." She warmed her hands on her cup.

"You were sure you could trust him with all that?"

Surprised, "You think I would have confided in him if I didn't think I could? Patrick, he'd already shown me how much I meant to him long before that. He was there for me when my dad died. That was a rough...and confusing time for me. Have I-did I mention to you that he passed away?"

His face was a picture of calm, the opposite true of his stomach as it tightened. "No, but Stan filled me in at Annie's birthday party."

"He did? Why would he tell you that?"

Casually, "Well, the rest of your family was there that day, and you know how nosey I am."

She blushed faintly and he saw her relive a moment they shared a decade ago on a scratchy old rug on the outskirts of Chicago as they looked at the night skyline together. The first time she'd told anyone of the abuse she and her brothers suffered. A sad yet magical night. "He changed, you know," she declared quietly.

"Oh?" Jane's tone increased a smidgen, luckily only distinguishable to his ears.

"Yeah...actually...just after you..." She frowned suddenly and he could almost see her brain muscles overexert themselves as they exercised furiously.

He backpedalled to their starting conversation. Fast. "Well, I'm very glad to hear that situation improved for you all. So, Bosco was found at the property? What explanation was given?" he asked.

A beat passed as she furrowed her brow at the abrupt change in topic. Then, "None, really. Just that he must have been passing on his way home from work and that he must have seen something in that property that made him go and investigate."

"What about your attempts to keep him alive? Surely the coroner would have made note of such a thing in his report?"

"Minelli fixed that too, has a woman he can trust there who Sam and he had already drawn in before my time."

"Pat?"

"Yeah, how'd you know that?"

"Not many women working there, plus you're friends with her, aren't you? You seem to have a better relationship with her than the other people they send to crime scenes from that office. There's a mutual trust between you. I thought it was merely because you were two women making it in largely a man's profession, didn't realise there was something deeper to it than that."

Lisbon nodded. "And that's what we hope people think. That we'd be off talking about men and nail colours together if they saw us talking a lot. Minelli's idea to play on that particular sexist model. Thought it'd look better if she came to me with any deaths that she thought could form part of this than go to him all the time. After Bosco, I've been her main contact. Plays better and less suspicious, you know."

"Indeed. Have to admit I'm appreciating Minelli's wily ways a whole lot more with this conversation. So, getting back to Bosco's death, it was left vague on purpose," he clarified.

She nodded. "Less said sometimes least questions asked."

"His wife didn't want more answers than that? The rest of the team?"

"Mandy - his wife - they'd been married a long time. She knew the risks of the job, the chance of losing him someday as part of it. He'd been in a fair few near misses before then, I think she always felt they were living on borrowed time."

Jane blinked quickly, the reality of Lisbon's job shoved squarely in his face. His hand shook slightly as he picked up his teacup as he put any such thoughts to the back of his mind. He knew they wouldn't reside there happily for long.

She continued talking, unaware of Jane's slight change in demeanour, "And the team...well, sometimes there aren't any answers. They investigated, naturally, we all did, but there was nothing to be found. There are plenty of open case files, Patrick, it's part of the job."

He raised an eyebrow. "A rather depressing part of it."

"Not every mystery can be solved."

He quirked an eyebrow to that comment too and she smiled knowingly after it, amused by his assurance in his unique skill set, "Even by you, Patrick Jane, sometimes, I'm sure."

He smiled back confidently. "Well, that remains to be proven, my dear."

She laughed gently then set her lips in a tight line just as quickly. "I still don't know if I'm doing the right thing telling you any of this."

"It wasn't like I gave you much choice in the matter," Jane said, his tone annoyingly relaxed.

She leaned forward, irritated by his lackadaisical approach. "This is serious, Patrick. What if..." She stopped talking and looked off to the side to collect her thoughts. Quietly, "I told one man my suspicions before...what if..." She shook her head and exhaled loudly.

Gently, "Hey, look at me."

She turned her head, her eyes shimmering like jade pools, "I can't stand the thought that by introducing you to this world of mine...to the work I do...what if I've signed your death warrant too without even realising it? You would never have looked for a career in Law Enforcement if it wasn't for me. You already escaped Red John's grasp before, Patrick. He could have gone after you after you talked about him on television. Hell, you thought he killed your wife at first, too. So would I if I hadn't noticed the face on the wrong wall. You have no idea how lucky you were he didn't take offence to you shooting your mouth off like you did and take some kind of morbid interest in you. If he finds out you're investigating him now with me...and our history together...I-I should have thought this whole thing through a hell of a lot more before I agreed to you working here."

"I was set on working here, Teresa. If you hadn't had Minelli agree to it I'd have engineered a way of getting him to agree to it myself."

"And if it hadn't been for me working at the CBI would that thought have ever crossed your mind?" she argued.

He cleared his throat with a small shrug. "Fine. I suppose you being here offered a certain...incentive. But I'm still here, aren't I? Even though things didn't quite work out with us how I wanted? I like the work, wouldn't have stayed otherwise." He licked his lips and his voice grew quieter as he leaned in further. "Can I ask you something, in that regard, though?"

She nodded, a faint blush colouring her cheeks at the intimate manner he'd just adopted.

"Us. That...moment we had...well, moments, I guess. Did you back off because of your relationship with Ryan or because you're afraid of putting me in Red John's crosshairs if we became close that way again? You're the lead agent, there's a chance he'll come after you, I've no doubt you've considered that. And if he discovers you've been investigating this conspiracy then more chance of that again.

"And, if he knows or suspects you're suddenly involved with me, personally - someone who's lambasted him on television - well, it might be too much temptation for him not to kill two birds with one stone. Literally, perhaps.

"Or was it because you're afraid you'll lose focus on capturing him if you're in a relationship you actually want to be in? Or are you just afraid of having your heart broken again, in general?"

She was momentarily stunned by his quick fire questions. Her first instinct was to deflect. But his searing gaze made it impossible. She looked into her coffee instead and silently shook her head. "Christ, that's a lot of questions. I just wish I knew the answers," she said after a few moments. Her eyes pierced his as she looked up at him again. "I was with Ryan before Bosco was killed. And he doesn't work for the CBI. There's more...separation, you know. And..." Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth.

"And you're not in love with him," Jane finished for her. "And never will be. No matter how hard you try."

He challenged her silently to refute his statement.

She swallowed thickly and a tear escaped that she batted away with a quick flick of her hand. "It sounds terrible but I never thought much about putting him at risk with Red John. It's never really crossed my mind. But with you...yeah, I've worried about it, him coming after you. God, that makes me a terrible person that I never gave Ryan the same consideration."

"Well, he wasn't idiot enough to go talking about a serial killer on a chat show," Jane sighed. "There's little chance he'd go after him, you're right about that."

She whispered, "I thought I was in love with Ryan. I told myself I was. He's such a good man. But...now..." She shook her head. "No. No, I'm not. I know that now."

He battled with catching a breath as he nodded, surprised she'd just been so candid. He felt his heart soaring and wondered for a second if it was about to escape his chest as it hammered loudly in his ears.

"I'm going to break up with him after the trial," she added. "I can't do it during or he'll lose the concentration he needs for it. He's nervous enough about it."

His tentative joy was shortlived. He frowned. "When did you decide this?"

A half shrug. "The night we kissed in your kitchen."

"And you never thought to mention that to me until I had to drag it out of you just now?" There was no masking the slight irritation in his voice.

She sighed, "Patrick-"

"I swear, Teresa, if you're going to say it's complicated-"

"It i _s_ complicated. There's more to it-"

Annoyed, "It's only complicated because you keep making it that way."

She raised her voice in return. "Just because I realise I need to end things with Ryan it doesn't mean I want a relationship with you."

"Damn it, Teresa, you could have just told me you needed time-"

"It's not as simple as-"

"Well, well, well, another lovers' tiff, is it?"

The sound of Brett Partridge's less than dulcet tones stilled their conversation.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jane snapped, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looked up at the forensic tech grinning from ear to ear upon catching them in the midst of a heated contretemps. No doubt gossip about it would spread like wildfire.

He put his white palms up in a calming gesture. "Hey, hey! I bring you good news!" He placed a folder on the table between them and nodded to Lisbon. "Jerk," he muttered under his breath, aimed at Jane.

"How'd you even know we were here?" Lisbon asked, sliding the manila folder towards her, recognising it as one of his forensic's report.

"News travels fast," Partridge replied enigmatically.

Lisbon rolled her eyes, not wanting to engage with the man any more than she absolutely had to. "What's so urgent, then, it couldn't wait until I got back to the office? Or that you couldn't have just called me about it?"

"Red John's latest victim, Laura Cole, hair found at the scene."

She opened the file. "So?" she asked absently as she began turning pages. "I'm sure there are dozens of different hair samples in that room with classmates coming and going all the time."

Now it was Jane's turn to roll his eyes as Partridge paused for dramatic effect as Lisbon's focused on the results of the toxicology report. Only when he had her full attention again he finally declared, "Yes! But the hair in question was on the body!" he exclaimed gleefully. "Right between-"

She noticed a couple of customers nearby take an interest at his celebratory tone. She whispered loudly, "Christ, Partridge, keep your damn voice down, you should have called me with this, not spoken about it in public like this. Do you have any idea how disrespectful that is to that poor girl?!"

"Jeez, talk about a buzzkill. I was excited...you know, a break in a Red John case. Come on, Lisbon! I had to see your face! Almost took it straight to Minelli. We've never found trace on a body of his before. It's a big deal!"

She let it pass that he even considered breaking the chain of command, though her leg bounced under the table in exasperation. She made her tone as professional as she could. "Have you identified who it belongs to or ethnicity at least?"

"Most likely Caucasian. Still running other tests to identify more than that," he said with a smile. "It's..." he tapped on the table like it was a piano, making their cups rattle, "a work in progress, as they say."

She snapped the folder shut. "Well, don't let me stop you," she said pointedly. "When you have anything more, then call me."

Partridge glared at her attempt to send him on his way like a schoolboy reprimanded. She arched an eyebrow and glared right back. Jane looked on with some amusement. He'd been on the sharp end of more than a few of those looks - Partridge didn't stand a chance. Right on cue, Partridge blinked and looked away from her a second later, mumbling incoherently but leaving them in no doubt to his aggravation.

When he'd moved out of earshot, Jane remarked, "That man really is a moron."

"He'd have you think he is," Lisbon suggested.

Their earlier argument shelved, for now, Jane nodded for her to continue, intrigued.

"It's just a feeling I get from him," she explained.

"That he's not the idiot he seems. Hm. Yeah, I agree."

"Really? You think the same?"

"He's clearly intelligent enough to do his job quite efficiently. Now, when I first met him I thought he just lacked social skills, as it were."

"But now?"

"Now? Now, not even a person with a severe lack of interpersonal skills would come to see you here to inform you about evidence he hasn't even processed fully yet and spout off about it in public."

"Why was he here, then?"

"That's a good question, isn't it? Interesting, though. He wanted to see how you'd react so he could report it to someone urgently, that much is obvious."

"You think Partridge is part of this conspiracy too? One of Red John's men?"

"Perhaps. I wouldn't be all that surprised if he were. Hiding or producing evidence would have to form part of it to either get people to play along when required or to get its members out of trouble when the need arises. There's no way someone from Forensics at quite a high level couldn't be involved the way I see it. I just can't see how it would operate efficiently otherwise. And Partridge is in a position of power there and ripe for the picking."

"That makes sense. I'd never thought about it like that."

He smiled effortlessly. "You've been so close to it sometimes a fresh set of eyes are required to see the bigger picture. Now, aren't you glad you told me about it? See? I can help."

She ignored his minor attempt at grandstanding. "But why would he produce evidence instead of hiding it if he's in league with Red John, somehow," she countered.

"Ask yourself this question instead. Why would Red John suddenly make a mistake now? More likely for him to have made a mistake when he first started killing, not after all this time."

Her eyes widened. "Because he wants us to follow this lead. It's a trap of some kind."

Jane nodded. "Bravo. This _clue_ is certainly not a clue to tell us who he is. It's a diversion _away_ from who he is."

"Crap," she muttered, sinking back into the chair. "I didn't want it to show in from of that ghoul but I thought we had a break just now after all this time, for real."

"Don't lose hope just yet. He doesn't know that we know it's a trap of some kind. Let's see where it leads with that in mind."

"He's obviously going to try to frame someone."

"Yes. So let's see who it is. Maybe if we figure out who and why then we'll be a step closer to discovering who _he_ is."

"We need to make sure whoever it is we can protect. Make sure they're not arrested. That's going to be difficult to achieve."

"Difficult but not impossible. But tricky, yes, I agree."

"All right. But...when the time comes you need to let me take the lead on whatever action we take-"

"Teresa-"

"Patrick, it's my case. It'd look entirely wrong if suddenly you're the Red John expert. Stay under the radar. Please. For your own good."

He smiled. "I'm not good at hiding my light under a bushel as you well know."

"Well, do your best," she glowered with a slight smile back. "You can be my secret weapon."

His eyes twinkled at her. Suggestively, "Hm. I can picture you filling out a Wonder Woman costume quite nicely. So I'd be your Lasso of Truth or something like that, you mean?"

She chuckled, "A Lightsaber might be more useful, but, yeah, how you can read people is like having one of those at my disposal now you mention it."

"Now you're only encouraging me to think of you in a Princess Leia costume," he grinned. "Isn't that some form of sexual harassment, Agent Lisbon, turning my innocent mind to such matters during the working day?"

"Innocent, of course, you are," she scoffed.

They laughed together before he became serious again. "Look, about what we were discussing when Partridge interrupted-"

The shrill of Lisbon's cell stopped the conversation once again. "We're up," she said, as soon as she disconnected the call. "Case down in San Jose."

Jane had already put some money on the table. "Need me to tag along?"

"Better you don't."

"Afraid of discussing our personal lives some more on the way, huh," he stated.

"No," she replied quickly with a blush, "Haffner's going to be on _my_ case if I have you working other cases other than Red John."

"Of course, your fear of Haffner is what you're afraid of." He held back an eye roll. Just.

As they were leaving she turned back to him as he followed her out. "I know we didn't get to discuss everything about this conspiracy," she said quietly. "When I get back we'll catch up again. Is that okay?"

"Of course. I'm at your disposal, my princess. After all, I may be your only hope."

She was unable to hold back an eye roll as he made a quick royal salute along with his words.

"God help us both if that's true."

She turned away but stopped a second later and turned back quickly again, softened her expression. "No. That was unfair. I'm relieved to be able to really talk about this stuff with someone I trust as much as I trust you. Thank you, Patrick."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24 - Reset

"Hey!"

The sound of Elise Connors' voice made Jane open his eyes as he lay on his couch. "Hey," he smiled. "How'd the raid go this morning?"

"Another five bastards taken down."

"How eloquently put," he replied with another smile. "Congratulations."

She sat down beside him, looked around for a second. Finding an almost empty bullpen for a rare change she drew two tickets out of the back pocket of her jeans and waved them at him. "Thanks. So, to celebrate, tickets to a rock concert tonight, are you game?"

He was rarely lost for words but he was close. He stared at the tickets in her hand and then laughed. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

She smiled devilishly at him. "Oh, come on. It'll be fun. A new experience in life to explore. Isn't that what you told me when you took me to the Opera?"

"Well, that was to give you a taste of culture, my dear." He pointed to the tickets. "That, on the other hand, is a sure fire way of inducing premature hearing loss."

She laughed then shoved his hip with her own. "I'll make it up to you afterwards. Come on, Patrick," she grinned. "Live a little."

Her obvious flirtation made him blush and he moved to sit up on the couch. She sat beside him. "Actually," he started, licking his lips, "I thought perhaps we could have a quiet dinner this evening."

"We can do that anytime," she countered, frowning.

"Well...there's something I'd like to talk to you about," he said softly, looking her in the eye.

She blinked quickly. "Sounds like it's important."

He nodded. "It is."

Her eyes circled his face and she laughed quietly. She stared at the tickets before she put them back in her pocket. "You don't have to buy me dinner to break up with me," she said with raised eyebrows and a gentle smile.

"I-" he shook his head, narrowed his eyes. He should have realised that breaking up with someone who was a detective would be very clear from his demeanour at the outset.

After his conversation with Lisbon that morning he had decided he couldn't be in a relationship his heart wasn't in again. As soon as she'd mentioned breaking up with Ryan she was all he could think of once more, scarcely remembering he had started to date another woman. And the fact Lisbon was finally beginning to be candid about how she felt about Ryan made him surer than ever that they were always meant to be together, even if she was still slow to admit to that fact and was holding back for a multitude of reasons.

But it was only a matter of time before she realised it too, he was certain of that. He'd decided soon after he'd rather wait for her to come to her senses than allow his relationship with Elise to lumber along any further like his did with Melissa.

She nodded. "This was never supposed to be a big thing. It's okay to end it, Patrick."

He sighed. "I am sorry, though. It's-"

"If you're about to say 'it's not you, it's me'," she interrupted.

He laughed softly then looked at her with a sigh. "It really isn't, though. You, I mean. You're wonderful, really you are."

She blushed slightly. "Yeah, you're damn right, I am," she joked. Amusement vanished from her features. "But I'm not the one, huh?" she said with a tinge of sadness. "Got the feeling that deep down you were really just a one woman man, behind all the bravado and playing the field."

He looked around the bullpen that had started to fill with a spattering of agents again. "You want to go somewhere quiet to discuss this?"

"There's not much left to say, is there?" she shrugged. "But...but can you tell me one thing," she whispered, her face close to his.

He nodded for her to continue.

"What's it like?" she asked him shyly, an emotion he'd rarely witnessed in her. "Being in love, I mean?"

He smiled at her. "You've never been?"

"Never. So, what do I need to look out for in case I miss Cupid's arrow if it ever falls in my direction."

He puffed out a breath. "Um..." He looked into the distance. "Well, it's both the most terrifying and wonderful thing that can happen to you simultaneously. You feel...you feel like you've jumped out of an aeroplane without a parachute but...when you look around there's someone else there holding your hand and keeping you airborne. The adrenaline and feeling of weightlessness are quite amazing."

He laughed softly. "Of course...when you lose contact...when you...or one...or both of you lose your grip and you let go of each other...well, that's when you hit the ground, a mess of bloody limbs."

He stared at her again. "That's what it was like for me, anyway," he shrugged.

"Sounds freakin' awful," she replied.

He laughed out loud. "Yeah, pretty much." He touched her hand. "But it's worth the risk of landing on your ass – most days."

She looked down at their hands as he withdrew his back to his lap. "That wasn't your wife you were talking about just now, was it?" she asked him tenderly, catching his eyes.

The sound of Haffner's voice calling him into his office stopped him from replying.

* * *

Lisbon stretched her neck as she made it to another drab Motel room, this time on the outskirts of San Jose. She yawned as she kicked off her boots and glanced at the synthetic floral bedcover on the queen size bed. No wonder she normally slept fully dressed on top of the covers in places like these. The high life, it was not.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and began to rub the soles of her feet after she tossed her jacket over a chair. The day spent chasing down leads and getting nowhere was frustrating but part of the job. Not all cases were action packed and exciting.

At least with this one she was pretty sure she'd finally cornered the person responsible at the eleventh hour. He'd lawyered up but she and Cho would have another crack at him in the morning. She was confident he'd break. Especially since Van Pelt was currently delving into his personal life for motive and Rigsby was working on breaking his alibi.

Now she had quiet for the first time all day she reflected on her conversation with Jane that morning. An involuntary smile graced her lips as she thought back to his jokes and his calm control under difficult circumstances. Although she had her misgivings, it was good to talk to someone about all the things she held inside – or at, least, some of them. Suddenly, she didn't mind the dingy hotel room, remembering one similar to it the first (and only) night she had spent with Jane. Her stomach pleasantly flip-flopped at the memory.

A knock came to her door and she sighed, expecting it to be Van Pelt or one of the others with some progress.

But when she got to the door Ryan greeted her instead. Her mouth hanging open was the polar opposite to the grin plastered on his face.

"Hey!" he said, planting a quick kiss on her lips. "Surprise!"

"Uh," she said, shaking her head. "What are you doing here? How...how'd you even know where I was?"

He entered the room and took hold of her waist. "I have a spy following you around," he said with a pronounced waggle of his eyebrows.

She backed away from him with a startled frown.

He laughed. "I'm joking, Teresa. I called Grace...hope you don't mind. Wanted to surprise you."

"Oh," she just managed to say with a nod.

"Come here," he said, sliding his arms around her again. He kissed her and moaned lightly. "God, I've missed you."

She kissed him back for a few moments, closing her eyes before she pulled back again.

"You okay?" he said.

She knew her kisses weren't exactly passionate. "Yeah, I'm just surprised. Thought you were busy with your case."

He removed his jacket and threw it on the bed. "I am...well, I was." He laughed. It was obvious he was hyped up and had probably been drinking too much coffee all day. "Actually, the others in my team told me to come see you, take a break before it starts. Think I've been getting on their nerves having them recheck every statement ten times over."

She smiled, hardly surprised. He was as painstaking about his work as she was about hers.

He looked at the bed and bit his lip. "And...well, it's...well, it's been some time since we've had some time together...alone, I mean. And with the trial coming up now who knows when we'll get some time again for a while."

"Right," she replied, nodding her head at the gaudy bedcover, his intentions clear. "It's just that I'm..."

"Tired?" He chuckled. "Yeah, I know. So am I."

He gathered her in his arms again. "But...not to sound crass but...believe me, it won't take long."

Her eyes opened wide and she laughed. "Wow, how romantic of you."

His cheeks were ablaze. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't know how else to put it." He kissed her slowly. "I just...I've missed you, Teresa. I've missed...us."

She gazed into his dark eyes, telling her how much he loved her. It wasn't just the sex he wanted, he wanted the warmth and love attached to it too. He wanted to feel loved back. Tears gathered in her eyes. She backed off and shook her head.

"Teresa? What is it, sweetheart? Look, it's okay...that was an asinine thing to say. Forget the sex...if you're really exhausted just holding you tonight-"

"I can't, Ryan," she said so quietly he had to strain to hear her.

"What-what are you talking about?"

She drew a deep breath and sat down at the table in the room. "Sit down, please," she said, nodding to the chair opposite, her expression taught.

"No," he said, shaking his head. His face was drowning in concern now and marked with suspicion. "No," he repeated, louder. "Whatever it is, just say it."

She wetted her lips with her tongue. "Okay. I...I think we should stop seeing each other."

He didn't reply for a moment and stared back at her.

"Ryan?"

"Why?" he asked her as soon as she said his name, his tone clipped, now.

"It's just not working out anymore, is it?" she said gently.

He went to speak then stopped again. A scowl crept across his face as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Have you slept with him?"

"What!?"

"Don't act all innocent, Teresa. Patrick Jane, have you slept with him? Is that what this is about? He's...talked you round or something?"

She coloured but shook her head. "No. I haven't slept with him."

"But something has happened with him, hasn't it? The guilt is written all over your face."

"That's not what this is about. This isn't about Patrick, this is about us, Ryan."

"Oh, please," he said, getting to his feet, "nothing has been the same since he came back into your life. You know he all but admitted to me that he was going after you again. To hell with me and what we have together. Did he tell you that?"

She got to her feet. "Damn it, Ryan, this isn't about him! Things weren't right between us before he came back. You know that as much as I do!"

"No, I don't. All I know is that all I've ever done is care for you, Teresa. That's all I've ever done." He sat back down on the bed again and placed the palms of his hands up to his face.

She walked over and sat down beside him. "After Bosco, everything changed," she said quietly.

He sniffed loudly and turned to face her. "I supported you through all of that," he frowned.

"Yes, you did."

"So?"

"So, you weren't mad that I kept all that stuff to myself from you? All that investigating while we were together? You just accepted it all so easily after I told you, like it meant nothing."

"I knew you had secrets from me. I didn't want to pry."

"And you didn't pry after I told you, either," she said with a long sigh.

"Every time Red John comes on the scene I'm worried sick, you must know that!"

"I do. But...but you don't want to know anything apart from that - if I'm okay. You have never once asked me what's happening with the investigation or where things are heading. And when I tell you anything you just nod and ask me what I'd like for dinner or give me a hug. We have never discussed it as two adults. It's like you want to pretend like I never told you at all. Like it has no impact on our lives the fact I'm doing all this dangerous stuff behind your back, nevermind what its implications are for the jobs we both do."

He snorted. "So, because I'm not nosey enough you're breaking up with me? And you never want to tell me anything either, don't pretend like you do. Opening up is not exactly in your wheelhouse, is it?"

"Yes, okay, you have a point and that's wrong of me. If we're truly partners then I should want to tell you everything, share everything but I don't, you're right. It's easier just to not talk about it. So, I've made mistakes too. So, it's more than you, it's me too. It's like we both want to pretend we're living this different life to the one we're actually living. And I can't...I can't pretend anymore to be someone different with you and-"

"Someone else with _him_."

She rolled her eyes. "This isn't about Patrick Jane. How many times do I need to tell you that?"

"So you haven't told him about this conspiracy, Red John, then?" he argued, staring at her.

"Not until today."

He smiled but there was no love in it. "And tonight you decide to break up with me. Gee, I wonder if that's a coincidence."

"I wouldn't have...you were the one who came to see me. I had no intention of-"

She stopped talking and looked at her sock clad feet when she saw him becoming more curious with every word she said.

"No, please go ahead," he stated, "sounds like you've planned this for a while. What were you waiting for? Huh?"

She shrugged. "The trial to be over. I didn't want your concentration to be affected."

Scornfully, "Wow, how magnanimous of you. Taking pity on a wretched specimen like me."

She took his hand and gazed at him. Softly, "Please don't be bitter. You're a better man than that. I'm sorry. I really am sorry I've hurt you. But you deserve someone who can give you that perfect life you want." She shook her head as tears escaped. "And that's not me, Ryan. I thought it could be but...but it's not. It never was."

He grasped her hand and then let it fall as he got off the bed. "So, that's it? No talking you out of it?" He was fighting to remain in control and his voice shook.

"No. I'm sorry," she offered.

He shook his head and grabbed his jacket with a puff of discontent. He regarded her with detachment. "I never stood a chance, did I? All these years, keeping me at arm's length...tell me, you really believe you can commit to him any better than you did me?"

"I've told you-"

He sighed. "Yeah, this isn't about him. So you've said. Except I don't believe you, Teresa. I always wondered what I was doing wrong, you know. Why you wouldn't let me in completely..." He let out a sad chuckle. "I didn't realise until he came back into your life that place in your heart was already occupied. I was always just the stand in, wasn't I?"


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25 - Reflection

The case closed successfully the following morning, Lisbon drove her team back to Sacramento, Rigsby asleep in the back of the SUV with his headphones in his ears, Cho reading and Van Pelt sitting quietly beside her going through paperwork.

It could have been a normal day like many others but, after Ryan had left the night before and she'd shed more than a few tears before she'd fallen asleep – she was slightly ashamed to admit there was a new lightness she felt as she drove home, relieved to have extricated herself from the confines of a relationship she'd not been happy in for some time. It had been a painful extraction but she knew more than ever she'd done the right thing in the cold light of day. She hoped he wouldn't bear her too much animosity for too long but, for now, she understood he needed to despise her for a good long while.

"Any further news from Forensics on Laura Cole's crime scene?" Van Pelt asked her, interrupting her thoughts.

Partridge's news had rippled through the CBI grapevine like quicksilver - a possible lead in the Red John case produced excitement that was hard to contain.

"No. Nothing yet. Let's not get carried away, Van Pelt. Could turn out to be nothing."

* * *

"Jane, thanks for popping by," Minelli said as he nodded to the chair opposite him at the other side of his desk.

"Your call didn't sound like I had much choice in the matter, Virgil," Jane smiled as he sat down.

"Yes. Indeed," Minelli harrumphed, fixing him with an eager gaze. "Lisbon called in to see me before she went to San Jose."

Jane nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue. His eyebrows quirked when he didn't immediately.

Minelli looked to his closed door before he pinned him with grimly determined eyes. "She told me she'd informed you about what's been going on," he said quietly.

"Yes."

"You understand how important it is to keep the circle small on this for now?"

Gravely, "I do. Wise. At this juncture."

Minelli breathed out slowly and nodded. His hands went to the packet of cigarettes he kept on his desk then let go of them again. "Used to be able to smoke in the offices around here. Now they have me going outside like a damn dog that needs to pee when the only lungs I'm infecting are my own."

Jane tilted his head to the side with a smirk. "Well, mine too, if you're thinking of lighting up in here. And your need to inhale toxic fumes is just as desperate as that dog you're talking about. By the way, how is yours?"

Minelli shot him a look of contempt. "Don't talk to me about that mutt."

Jane laughed softly. "You can't fool me, Virgil. I'd bet $100 that you have a new chew toy in your desk for him right now."

Minelli glanced at the drawer briefly. "That's neither here nor there," he said, clearing his throat. "Anyway, we're not here to discuss my dog or my smoking-"

Jane leant forward. "You know, I can help you with that. Quitting smoking, I mean. It really is a filthy habit, Virgil. Not nearly as glamorous as it used to be like in the old movies you like to watch. And, let's face it, you're no Cary Grant. You need all the help you can get if you're planning on getting hitched again anytime soon."

As Minelli stared at him in outrage, Jane continued to talk, his voice calmer and lower as he spoke, looking deep into Minelli's eyes. "Now, the next time you decide to light up-"

"Quit that!" Minelli said, shaking his head away from Jane's gaze. "I've heard about your hypnosis crap, don't think I haven't. Smoking is one of the few pleasures I have left in life, Jane, let me keep it, for god's sake."

Jane eyed the cigarettes again. "Fine. As long as you don't inflict that ominous _pleasure_ on me too, thank you very much." He ruefully reflected that he shouldn't have asked permission and that he should merely have hypnotised his boss into not smelling like an ashtray without his knowledge. Another time.

"Fair enough," Minelli nodded. "So, back to why I called you in here, what are your thoughts?" he asked, pushing back into the leather of his chair.

"Hard to say yet," Jane replied, serious again. "Teresa – Lisbon – our conversation got cut short before she told me everything."

"Yes, she said. I said I'd leave it to her to explain the rest. She should be back in a couple of hours, allow you two the chance to catch up again."

Seeing a change in Jane's expression at the news Lisbon would be back in Sacramento shortly Minelli narrowed his eyes at him. "She trusts you. That's...that's not easy for her, you know."

"Nor for you," Jane remarked drily.

A chuckle. "No. Anyhow, glad to see you two are getting on better again. Keep it that way, all right? I don't need the hassle of that particular mess getting in the way of this Red John conspiracy now you're onboard."

"Understood," Jane smiled. He was unsure if this was Minelli's way of asking what his intentions were towards Lisbon or warning him off any such intentions.

Changing the subject, Jane asked, "Do you think Haffner's involved?"

"Do you?"

Amused, "You really are a wily old coot, Virgil. Being sent to work there wasn't just a decision plucked out of the air. You wanted me to get a good read off the man – admit it."

"Hey, less of the old," responded Minelli. "It was you who asked for a transfer, I'll remind you."

"Yes. But your decision to send me to Haffner."

Minelli smiled. "What are your thoughts on him?"

Jane pondered for a few moments, his index finger rubbing along his upper lip. "Unsure. He's quite the pompous ass. Hard to know if that's all an act or for real. Although, if it's for real...then I don't believe he's Red John. Although it doesn't discount him from knowing who he is or working for him."

Minelli tilted forward again, interested.

Jane continued, "Haffner isn't one to shine his light under a bushel, is he?"

"You're one to talk," Minelli mumbled under his breath. He waved his hand at Jane to go on.

"Well, the way I see it – Red John isn't like that. Not in his everyday life. His persona...well, that's an entirely different matter, of course – there he's a showman, that's where he feels at ease to show off who he really is.

"But in everyday life, I'd bet he veers as far away from showing that side to his nature as he can. For two reasons."

Jane tapped one index finger against the other. "One - he can't have the possibility of someone imagining he's Red John, not even for an instant – so subconsciously he'll want to act the opposite of Red John – harmless, ineffectual, even."

He tapped his middle finger. "And two – because he gets off on it, this secret identity of his, fooling all those around him with what's probably a very affable exterior. It's all part of what makes him feel superior to everyone else."

Minelli blinked quickly. "That's...well, that's clever thinking."

Jane beamed a smile back. "Yes, I know. Why are you so interested in Haffner?"

"He has friends at the FBI. And as much as I hate the Feebs sooner or later I'm going to have to bring this to them. Thought he may prove a necessary conduit between agencies. I have some other people I'm looking at too but Haffner could prove useful."

"If he's not crooked. All right, I'll keep looking into him, now I know what I'm looking for."

"Discreetly, mind you." Minelli waved a firm finger at him to emphasise the point.

"Discretion is my middle name," Jane replied smoothly with a smile.

"Dear god, I wish that were true," the other man retorted with a long sigh. "But if Lisbon trusts you then I trust her judgement about you. She just better be right."

Jane continued, "I'm honoured if also a tad offended. By the way, I think you're right, too."

Confused, "About what?"

"You believe Red John works in Law Enforcement. Or adjacent to it – same ballpark, certainly. Lisbon thinks it too although she didn't get around to mentioning that to me just yet."

"How-how do you know we believe that?"

"It's quite obvious. Like you said before about trust. You cops don't trust people easily. You see so much betrayal in your line of work every day it's understandable. But the people you do trust...normally, that is...well, it's other cops - people who see what you see. You're not good at building longstanding relationships outside of work as few others can understand the pressures of your jobs. And if Red John has friends in Law Enforcement then it stands to reason that he's a cop too. Or damn close to being one."

Jane leant back in his chair again. He smiled with assurance as he saw Minelli lost for words. "Now, aren't you glad you and Lisbon brought me into this now?"

* * *

Jane tapped twice on Lisbon's open office door and stuck his head in. "Hey, heard you were back," he said cheerfully.

She looked over from the filing cabinet she was standing beside and smiled back. "And I heard you impressed Minelli. That's not easy to do, believe me." She closed it with a shove of her arm.

He shrugged and pretended to act embarrassed. "Aw, it was nothing, really," he grinned.

She came a step closer. "Not what I heard."

He spoke quietly, "He filled you in, I take it?"

She nodded and closed the door beside her, brushing against his arm. "He did."

She added sincerely, turning around until they were face to face, "It's impressive. Seriously, Patrick."

He frowned, looking down at the front of his pants. "Why, thank you, my dear," he beamed.

She rolled her eyes. "I was trying to give you a compliment," she said, crossing her arms and taking a step back.

"And I was accepting it from you graciously," he laughed.

"Just when I think you're a grown up at long last," she said with another eye roll, her dimples showing as she smiled.

"Meh, where's the fun in that? There's enough doom and gloom in the world as it is."

She shook her head as she sat at her desk. He shuffled in beside her, leaning on the corner nearest to her. "Heard you closed your case, is that the reason for this good mood of yours?"

She raised an offended eyebrow. "Are you suggesting I'm usually grumpy?"

"Uhm...so...case closed, huh?" he said again, beaming a charming smile at her and blatantly ignoring her response.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Still have to file the paperwork, though," she shrugged, picking up a pen.

"Such a waste of time," he muttered loudly.

"Don't start about all that again," she said with a smile, her head down. "I don't have time to listen to it."

"I'll be on my way when we agree on when our next secret assignation is going to be. Minelli suggested the sooner the better. I agree. The lab tests will be back anytime, would be nice to have the full story of what we're dealing with and how far you've got before then."

"Yeah, you're right. I was going to call you to arrange it. How about tonight? You free? Her smile wavered slightly. "I mean...if you have other plans we can reschedule-"

"Tonight's great," he said. "You want to come to mine? I can make us something to eat."

A wrinkle appeared between her eyes as she considered the invitation.

"Teresa, it's just dinner while we talk. I swear I'm not going to put the moves on you-"

"No. I mean – yes. I mean...yes, tonight's good for me too. Dinner too, if you're offering. It'd be...it'd be nice."

"Not sure how nice it'll be to discuss a serial killer while we dine but we'll make the best of it," he said with a chuckle, moving off her desk. "I'll see you around seven?"

"Sure," she replied. "See you then."

* * *

"Hey!" He greeted her with a smile when he opened the door. "Come on in, dinner's almost ready," he added, "just throw your jacket anywhere, I'm at a crucial point in timing this correctly."

As he rushed back to the kitchen she threw her jacket on the couch and watched him concentrate at the stove. The smells of tomato and basil wafted in her direction. "Smells delicious. You shouldn't have gone to any trouble, though, Patrick."

"If it was any trouble I wouldn't have," he replied, turning his head quickly with a smile and a wink. As he was stirring something in a pot he nodded to a bottle of red wine on the counter. "Would you mind opening the wine, the corkscrew is in the top drawer. It's a travesty to have this lamb without a good glass of Brunello to accompany it."

"If you say so," she said under her breath. After she opened it she found herself staring at him as he continued cooking, adjusting and readjusting the sauce and adding herbs as he went.

"Where'd you learn to cook? And learn about what wine goes with what? In the carnival a bad hot dog was the best you had to offer me," she asked him with a smile.

He chuckled. "Took a few classes. Helped me in my...previous career line."

"How so?"

"Cooking classes are a great way to meet women who are rich and bored. Ripe for the picking. Only the most expensive and exclusive courses, naturally, make sure the people you're attracting are worth the effort and initial expense. Once there, just throw out a few breadcrumbs of interest and you have the birds flocking around you wanting to know – and pay for - more. Literally. Plus it helped me to become more refined and learn about that stuff – made me appear more on the level than what I actually was, helped smooth out the edges from where I started, made me look semi-respectable. Now...well, now I just enjoy cooking. It's relaxing." He glanced at her. "Especially when I have someone to experiment on," he grinned.

"Gee, thanks," she laughed. After she laughed he saw her withdraw again almost immediately, compose herself into someone more closed off again.

"Everything okay?" he nodded with a frown. "You seem conflicted about something."

She bit her bottom lip briefly and took a deep breath. "Yeah...I'm...hell, I might as well just say it. I broke up with Ryan."

Jane stared back at her for a second too long. The sound of his pot of sauce bubbling brought him back to the present. He removed it and turned off the gas. "When?" he probed.

"Last night."

"I thought you were on a case and you wanted to wait-"

"I was. And I did. But then he came to see me. Surprised me. He wanted to..." She broke off and looked away momentarily, "well, it doesn't matter what he wanted. The point is I ended it. I couldn't...I couldn't go on with what was rapidly becoming more and more of a charade any longer."

He nodded slowly. "You did the right thing," he said softly. "He didn't take it well, I'm guessing."

"No. But I don't blame him for that. I hurt him. Badly."

"Better now than hurt him more years down the line."

"Yeah...yeah, I know. It's just hard."

"Of course. So, you feel conflicted because you know you did the right thing but feel bad for the pain you caused. It's entirely normal to feel that way."

"Mmm." She picked up the glass of wine beside her and took a sip as he went back to cooking. "Wine's good," she said, filling in the awkward silence that had suddenly descended on them.

"Glad you like it," he answered, staring into his pot of sauce. "Actually, this sauce could do with a dash of it." He glanced quickly at the bottle just out of his reach. "Would you mind...?"

"Of course." She picked up the bottle and handed it to him. As their fingers touched their eyes met. "Thank you," he said softly, taking the bottle from her and adding some to the sauce.

"Patrick," she said quietly a tense moment later.

"Hmm?"

"I think I made a mistake."

"With Ryan? No, you didn't."

"Not with him."

He stopped stirring the sauce immediately and turned to her slowly. "Yes, you did," he told her unwaveringly.

"Elise...?" she asked, her breathing erratic as she was drawn into his gaze, increasingly searing and hot.

"It's over."

"When?" she frowned.

"Yesterday."

"Why?"

"You know why," he stated calmly. He turned the gas off again without looking away from her.

"I-I don't even know if this is a good idea right now..." she started, though her body was contradicting her statement as she moved closer to him.

He fixed a lock of her hair behind her ear tenderly. Then, surprising her, he bent down and kissed the spot just below it with the barest of touches. She shivered. He kissed her again, a whisper of a kiss. "Your reaction tells me something entirely different," he said quietly, kissing her just lower, another breath of a kiss.

As her eyes fluttered closed and she melted against his chest, instinctively exposing more of her neck for him to continue he stood up straight again and took a step back. She blinked open her eyes and saw him reach for the glass of wine she'd been sipping. He drank enough to wet his lips and eyed her confidently.

"I'm not going to seduce you, Teresa. Although..." he smiled, more of a smirk than a smile, "although I imagine I could without much effort right now."

When he saw the beginnings of a glare he shook his head, "Let me finish before you slap me again. I don't want to be some kind of rebound fling for you, some one night stand that you'll tell me was a mistake come morning when that brain of yours starts worrying about Red John and a thousand other excuses why you're afraid of this becoming real between us."

His voice dipped lower, more unsure, "You're not the only one who's afraid. You're not the only one who can be hurt."

Her anger evaporated quickly as she looked into his eyes, earnest and truthful. "So then maybe we shouldn't...give in to this, whatever this is. If we both have too much to lose."

"I doubt that's going to be possible for much longer. To just stop feeling what we feel for each other. We're already on this road. We may have taken a detour for a decade but when our paths crossed again this was always going to happen. We both know it, Teresa."

"You don't believe in fate."

"No. But I believe in us. I always have. You just need to believe in us too. Can you? Are you ready for that?"

She smiled faintly at him. "I-I think I want to be ready. With you, that is. Even with all the reasons running around my head why this is probably a terrible idea and the fact I've just broken up with my boyfriend. I-I want you. And...I guess it's that simple when it comes down to it."

He chuckled softly. "Well, it's not exactly a declaration of undying worship but it'll do for now. If you do need more time, though-"

She took a step towards him again and kissed him softly. "Maybe we've wasted enough. And you're right, sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith."

She kissed him again, less chaste, more charged. "And you have to know that the last thing you could ever be for me is some kind of rebound fling, Patrick." Slowly they deepened it, the taste of wine on their lips. As they broke off, her cheeks the colour of cherries, she smiled. "Mind if we skip dinner?"

He smiled back at her, his hands resting on the small of her back. "I did put a lot of effort into it." He pecked her lips. "But it might taste better if it marinates for a while longer."

She smiled and kissed him again. This time it was more raw, more full of hunger. He matched her fervour as he grabbed her ass and brought her closer as his mouth lingered on hers. "Is there something about this kitchen that makes you hot for me?" he asked, breaking the kiss with a laugh.

She looked around them, chuckling. "I don't know. Guess there must be."

As he went to kiss her again he broke off again just as quickly. "Hang on, where's your phone?"

"Huh?"

"Your cell, where is it?"

She glanced at her jacket on the couch. "In my jacket, why, for heaven's sake?" she laughed.

He took her hand and led her to it. Rifling through her jacket he found it. "Et voila!" Grinning, he pressed a button on it quickly and threw it back towards the couch. "Because I'm not having that damn thing ring and spoil this for us again. So I switched it off."

He gathered her back in his arms and kissed her as she giggled at his impetuousness. "What if work calls?-"

"Whoever's dead will still be dead come morning," he said, nuzzling her neck again.

"That's a terrible-"

His hands gracefully untucked her shirt from her jeans and she stopped talking as his fingers, hot and certain, wove their way around her back. "What were you about to say?" he grinned, kissing her.

"Doesn't matter," she moaned, as her lips found his again.

"Bedroom?" he groaned against her mouth.

"Bedroom," she confirmed breathlessly.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: M scene ahead.**

* * *

Chapter 26 - Messes

 **M scene start**

Still kissing, Jane steered her into his bedroom, his arms around her waist. She worked quickly to discard his shirt as soon as they were at the foot of the bed, his time spent trailing tender kisses from her earlobe to the gold of the cross she wore. His hands were busy too, fiddling with the small buttons of the black blouse she wore. Four buttons in, his patience was exhausted and he pulled the garment over her head, tossing it to the floor behind her. He grunted with admiration at the black lace bra she wore encasing milky white breasts demanding to be kissed. He did so, pressing gentle pecks to the soft skin of their mounds as his hands travelled to the belt around her black slacks.

She'd already unbuckled his pants and he hissed as one of her small hands wove its way inside to the cotton of his boxers. "Not so shy, anymore, huh?" he chuckled, kissing her mouth again as his fingers worked on removing her belt.

"Is that a problem?" she asked, amused, her fingers stroking him tantalisingly slowly.

"No. No. No problem," he just got out, his words punctuated by a couple of deep controlling breaths.

Her belt open, he teased her pants down her legs, bending over to kiss her stomach before dropping to his knees, releasing her grip on him. He held her sides and kissed her belly again, lifting one foot and then the other to release her boots, socks and pants. She began to pant, his hair under her fingers as he kissed her right ankle, working his way up to the inside of her knee. He backed her gently against a bedroom wall as he continued to kiss her thigh before he lifted her right foot off the ground and placed one leg over his shoulder.

Her breathing accelerated, trapping another clump of his hair, just as he used one hand to peel away the thin cotton strip of the briefs she wore that covered a small patch of hair and moved his lips closer to the apex of her thighs. He breathed in her scent audibly and a shiver went up her spine.

"Do you remember you didn't want me to do this the first time?" he asked, pressing a short kiss just where he knew it would drive her crazy for more.

"Yeah," she panted. "I was young...and an idiot."

He laughed softly and pressed another kiss. Then a longer one, adding a slow swipe of his tongue before quickly lapping at the blossoming bud above. He moaned as her body reacted immediately to his mouth with a short spasm. "And how about this time? You sure you want this?"

"For Christ sake, Patrick!" she let out, tugging at his hair roughly.

"Ouch!" he laughed. "Okay, okay."

As soon as he began to use his mouth on her again she relaxed her hold on his hair, her body hot and writhing against the cool wall behind her until she was spent from the wildness of the orgasm that surged through her minutes later. "Fuck," she said afterwards, catching her breath.

"Tsk, such language for a good Catholic girl," he said with some smugness, getting to his feet and kissing her soundly on the mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. "Not such a good Catholic girl tonight," she whispered in his ear with a devilish laugh.

With that she kissed him hard, backing him onto the bed. He arrived at it quicker than he anticipated and fell onto it comically with a chuckle. She quickly joined him there with a giggle.

Then they were kissing again as they lay in the middle of the bed, their hands all over each other. She dragged his pants down his legs and he toed his shoes and socks off, joining his discarded pants and falling onto the carpet with a _thud_.

Left with just their underwear on, she said quietly, "This is a nice bed," breaking their kisses to take some air and savouring the feel of cool 600 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets beneath her body.

"Better than some scratchy polyester sheet in a cheap motel room, hmm?" he replied, kissing her quickly, his arms tucked around her, his fingers at work opening the hook of her bra.

"It wasn't so bad," she said, kissing him and grazing his chest with her nails. She ran her hands across his rounded biceps and broad shoulders. "You've filled out some since then," she said appreciatively.

He removed her bra quickly and his eyes went to her breasts, bare and pale and rosy tipped. "So have you, in all the right places too. Imagine that," he grinned, his hand cupping a pert breast and lingering his thumb over her nipple, already hard, smiling as he heard her breath hitch as he kissed her slowly.

"Guess we were both pretty scrawny back then," she said when they broke apart. She moved closer, kissed him gently, tenderly.

He moved his hand from her breast and felt the soft curve of her cheek, stared into her eyes. "You were cute back then but now you're absolutely beautiful, Teresa."

"Oh, please. Stop. You don't have to give me your cheesiest lines, Patrick. I'm here, aren't I?" she grinned.

He pecked her lips. "You never could take a compliment. Maybe one day you'll realise how amazing you are."

"Hmm. Doubtful," she shrugged, still smiling, before they kissed again.

He ran his fingers through her hair, his stare hot and intense, more serious again. He whispered, "Are you okay with this? Really, I mean."

She pushed him onto his back and straddled his body as a response, took his cheeks in her hands and kissed him fiercely. "I'm not a virgin anymore, Patrick. And besides, I still knew what I wanted then. Just as I do now." She rocked her hips against him to emphasise her point.

"Just trying to be a gentleman," he grinned.

Her eyes sparkled and she licked her lips. "Well, maybe I don't want a gentleman right now."

He grinned again then flipped her over onto her back where he kissed her again as she laughed. His mouth moved to a breast, his tongue wet and fast as he feasted on it, his fingers descending into her underwear.

She scratched his back and moaned as he easily made her orgasm again with his fingers. It was almost embarrassing how easily she came for him. But when it felt right it felt right. And being with him just felt incredibly right. It always had.

She shoved him onto his back again and proceeded to show him some things she'd learned in their time apart. When she took him into her mouth he swore like a sailor and his eyes watered. He'd barely been able to contain himself long enough to get a condom from the drawer beside the bed. Being with her again was making him act more like the teenage boy he was back then - perhaps a tad more than was ideal considering the circumstances.

"Least they're not green this time," she giggled, pulling his underwear off and removing her panties before straddling him again as he placed the condom between them.

He entered her slowly, biting down on his lower lip to maintain control, his hands on her waist. She placed the palms of her hands on his chest and threw her head back, her hair falling around her shoulders and back, her breasts bouncing lightly and her cross shimmering as they began a slow rhythm together. Moments later they moaned as they increased it and he sat up and kissed her, nestled his head in the crook of her neck as he peppered kisses all along her collarbone as his fingertips danced over her spine.

She held onto him tight, breasts pressed up against his chest and nails digging into his back as her hips rocked in time with his. She grabbed his face, kissed him then kissed him again, eyes locked on each other as the crescendo built against the sounds of slapping of skin against skin and breathless pants. It was new and yet familiar at the same time. There was no awkwardness and no thoughts of anything but desiring each other and expressing it. She came first and he looked at her with awe as she rode out the wave as he drew out of her to allow the feeling wash over her, her eyes tightly closed and her head thrown back, face gleaming with perspiration in the dark, and mouth open in a silent _O_ of sheer bliss.

When she opened her eyes he kissed her roughly, his tongue dancing with hers as he switched positions until she was on her back and he was inside her again. He continued to kiss her, entirely unrestrained now. She matched him kiss for kiss as he grasped her tighter, his knuckles white as he held onto her sides as he thrusted harder and harder. Her nails dug into his skin as she mirrored his fast rhythm, her moans escalating, louder and louder. Finally, with a loud groan, he came, thrusting so deep he brought her over the edge with him once more.

 **M scene end**

* * *

Lisbon lay naked on her front as dawn approached, her gaze set on the man beside her as his fingertips caressed her back slowly and carefully. While she was watching his face set in concentration he was focused on exploring her fully with his worshipful stare, his blue green eyes dancing joyfully in tune with where his hand applied pressure. His touch was light and almost hypnotic and neither had spoken for minutes. They'd just made love again, less frantic than their first time that night and more filled with tenderness than sheer lust. Her eyelids batted lazily as she felt the first rays of sun on her exposed back.

"You know," he said quietly as his fingers kept traversing across her back in slow strokes, "I sometimes wondered if I'd exaggerated our first night together as the years passed by - if I'd imagined it with hindsight in more of a romantic manner than what we actually shared."

He said nothing after that for seconds and just kept running his fingers over her skin.

"And?" she finally asked.

He looked at her then, a gentle smile that lit up his eyes. "Well..." he said with a long sigh, changing his expression to pensive. He leaned over and kissed a freckle just below her shoulder blade before he grinned cheekily at her. "I should have known that I was as right then as I usually am now."

She laughed softly, pressed a kiss to his mouth. "Is that who you see?" she asked him with more nervousness. "Now, I mean...do you see me as the girl you knew then?"

He shook his head. "I see you as who you are now. But also her too, I suppose. I see the change, the progression. And it's incredible."

"From one hot mess into another one, you mean?" she smiled.

"Meh. Who isn't messy? Certainly not me. Not then and not now."

"True." She looked to the oak headboard a second later, a line set between her eyes.

"You feeling guilty about Ryan?" he asked softly.

Her head swung back to him. "How did you know I was just thinking about him?"

"We were talking about us both being messed up. He's not, though, is he?"

She shook her head. "No. He's not. I think that's why I hung in there for so long. The stability. You know, when Stan moved his family out here and I was visiting them and babysitting for them-"

"You thought that that's what your life should be too."

"Not really _that_. Not...I mean I still wanted to be a cop. That never changed. But I suppose, seeing them made me want something like that too. Something grounded and steady. Someone to share my life with. And...Ryan was keen and a good man who came from a normal background. Everyone told me how much of a catch he was and they were right. So, eventually I agreed to go out with him and it just went from there. And he didn't mind me being a cop – you have no idea of the number of men who don't want a cop for a girlfriend – and he didn't complain about the hours I worked. And he didn't even mind my crazy brothers...it was...it was easy with him in the beginning, you know. And it continued that way. It was always easy. But I'm...maybe I'm just not built for easy."

"Well, you picked the right man now if you don't want it easy. I'm sure I'll drive you crazy plenty of times to keep things interesting."

"Yeah," she laughed. Then she grimaced. "Oh god, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking about him with you like that."

She looked at their naked bodies and blushed. "And especially not in this bed after what just happened between us."

"Three times," he grinned. He kissed her lightly. "I don't mind. I have you now, not him," he added with a twinkle in his eyes and devilment in his voice as he pulled her against him and kissed her again.

"You make me sound like a prize cow or something," she admonished him lightly.

"Never a cow, Teresa. Maybe a glorious bird of prey."

She rolled her eyes with a laugh. "Oh god, you do talk a load of BS."

"Get used to it," he smiled.

She frowned again a second later after they shifted in the bed so he held her in his arms. "You know what I've just realised. I don't actually feel guilty. I feel bad for him but...but I don't feel guilty about us doing this."

He pecked the top of her head. "And you feel bad about not feeling guilty. You really have a hell of a martyr complex, you know."

She snorted softly. "Yeah, I know. Tell me something I don't know."

"Can I ask you something?" she said a few moments later.

"Fire away," he yawned.

"With your wife...you said that you were never really in the relationship to begin with when we first met again."

"Did I?"

"Yes. What-what did you mean by that? It struck me as odd, almost like you never loved her."

"Hmm."

"Patrick?" She tapped his chest and he opened his eyes again, found hers staring at him for an answer.

He caressed her shoulder lightly and shrugged. "I never did."

Her eyes widened. "You never loved your wife?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Then...then why would you marry her in the first place? I mean...Ryan was always dropping hints about us getting a place together and passing by too many jewellery stores for it to be merely coincidental if we were taking a walk together the past few months."

"How did you distract him from asking the rather obvious question on his mind?"

"Work, mostly. Made excuses." Sheepishly, "Or fought with him, if I thought he was close to proposing."

"Why were you so afraid of being asked? You could have declined."

"I didn't want to hurt him. And because..." She clicked her tongue. "I told myself that I wasn't ready for that question but that I would be in time. But...now...well, now I know I wasn't ready for that question coming from him ever, not that the timing was wrong. I didn't realise that until lately."

She shook her head, "God, I'm ashamed of that, thinking about my actions now. So, there I was, running away from marriage because I clearly wasn't in love with someone – so, what made you do the opposite, run into it when you weren't?"

He pursed his lips then emitted a long breath. "For exactly that reason."

She frowned, questioning him.

He shifted so he could look at her in the face. For a long moment he didn't speak. Then, "After I left Chicago I was a mess. Emotionally, that is. Work wise...well, that went great. I focused on it solely, making money, conning people. I put you out of my mind. Least that's what I told myself. I was even a little mad at you for making me fall for you like I had. I became driven to succeed and promised myself I'd never allow emotions rule me again."

She gaped at him. "I-I don't know what to say. I never realised...I mean, I thought..."

He pecked her lips. "I told you back then you did a number on me." He laughed softly. "And did you ever."

"I was a mess, too, Patrick. I did what you did too, I suppose. Focused on getting into College then Police Academy."

"Hmm, thought you might. Anyway, a few months after we went our separate ways we joined up with a bigger carnival. And there...there I met a girl." His eyes misted over slightly.

"Melissa?"

"No. Well, yes, actually. I met her at the same time. But this other girl was called Angela. Angela Ruskin."

"You liked her," Lisbon stated softly.

He shrugged. "Yeah, suppose I did. She reminded me of you in lots of ways. And...and if I'd met her before you then maybe..." He sighed. "I don't know. She wasn't like the other carnie kids and I liked that about her."

"So, what happened between you?"

"Nothing, nothing at all. I made sure of that."

"How do you mean? If you liked her then...well, I know shyness certainly wouldn't have stopped you."

He chuckled. "No. Definitely not shy in those days."

"Or now," she corrected him with a smile.

"Sometimes now," he said, placing a chaste but tender kiss on her lips.

"Go on with your story," she urged, patting his chest.

"Not much more to tell. She liked me - that much was obvious. Although she pretended she didn't at first. Just like you," he smirked. His smile faded and he sighed again. "So, I ignored her. Or tried to. But she was...extremely tempting and I could feel a tug on my heart again. Not like you but...but too close for comfort. So, to stop any chance of anything happening with her I picked up Melissa right before her eyes after a show one night. Angela had started to come talk to me after the shows and so I timed my move to perfection. Maximum devastating impact."

He closed his eyes and lay his head back on the pillow. "I could see her face for a long time after that, her look of disgust as I..." He opened his eyes again with a sigh. "Anyway, there you go. Told you I'd done a lot of bad things since we parted. That was nothing compared to some of the rest later on."

Lisbon shifted towards him and put her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I messed up what might have been something real for you, Patrick."

He embraced her. "Hardly your fault. And it was for the best, anyway. Angela hated all that psychic stuff, too. I doubt we'd have lasted if I'd insisted on doing that for a living with her. I saved her a world of pain, most probably." He kissed her softly. "And I wouldn't have this chance with you now. So, like I said, it's all worked out for the best in the end."

His smile faltered. Regretfully, "Apart from Melissa, of course."

Solemnly, "You never said why you married her still."

"Angela came close to me feeling something for someone again. I never wanted that to happen again. With Melissa I knew it never would. And I don't mean that in a terrible way. We were a good partnership in the beginning. We both wanted out of the carnival and she was a hustler just like me. It wasn't always miserable with her, it was even fun for a few years as we crawled our way up the ladder of respectable society. And she didn't care about the psychic gig. Makes doing it a hell of a lot easier if you don't have someone in your ear with good ethics to prick your conscience. So, marriage seemed like the next logical step. It all made perfect sense at the time. It was only as the years went on I realised how miserable we actually both were. That type of arrangement only lasts so long."

"Did she know you never loved her?"

He pursed his lips. "I...I don't know. I think she always suspected I never did. But she never asked the question. I think...she was probably afraid of the answer I'd give her. She asked for jewellery, not honesty from me, Teresa."

"That's...that's so sad. And messed up."

He nodded. "Told you you'd come to the right man if you wanted a mess," he said softly.

She snuggled into his chest and he put his arms around her, kissed the top of her head. "After hearing that-"

She cut him off with a kiss then deepened it until they were both breathless. "Thank you for your honesty."

He smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Well, if that's what being honest gets me then I might be tempted to be more honest in the future."

She rose up and straddled him with a grin. "Finally," she said triumphantly.

He placed his hands on her back and quickly pulled her towards him with a chuckle before kissing her, a grin plastered on his face. "Just what I was thinking," he said, before kissing her senseless.

* * *

 **A/N: Just want to say a massive thank you to all the reviews of the last chapter. It was extremely unexpected to get so many lovely ones but I'm very grateful for the continued interest in this story. Sorry I've not been updating as regularly, real life has been crazy busy and tiring leaving me little time to think about writing never mind writing itself!**

 **And sorry, not a lot (or any!) plot covered in this chapter, their conversation got away on me. But I have plenty lined up in that regard next chapter and I'm very excited for the next (and final) phase of this story to begin. I'm almost finished writing it so hopefully not too long a wait.**


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27 - Revelations

"There you are," he said with a grin, suddenly sweeping his arms around her waist from behind and lifting her up to kiss her cheek before settling her back on the ground again and strolling over to the kitchen.

"Patrick!" she squealed, fixing her clothing again as she stood at the back of the couch, her phone in hand.

He grinned at her mischievously. "Eggs for breakfast?"

She checked her watch.

"It's still early. Hasn't even gone eight yet. And it's Saturday."

"Yeah..."

"Tell me, when was the last time you had a lazy weekend or even a lie in on a Saturday?"

"Um..."

He laughed. "If you have to think about when then it's been far too long. So, any calls?"

"No," she admitted.

"See? No corpse requires your attention. And I thought this beautiful morning couldn't get any better."

She came to stand beside him. His hair damp from the shower and smelling of pineapple shower gel still, her stomach flip-flopped pleasantly as she watched him prepare a frying pan, arrange plates and breakfast items efficiently beside her.

He looked at her sideways then beamed a smile at her. "Believe me, it's a cross to bear."

"What is?" she frowned.

He kissed her quickly as he retrieved a spatula from a drawer. "Looking this good first thing in the morning."

She raised both eyebrows. "Yeah, in your dreams."

He kissed her again, his lips lingering with a smile. "No. But I know I'm in yours. Or will be from this moment once more."

"Oh, really?! Don't be so cocky!" she laughed.

As he grinned at her the cell in her hand vibrated. "See?" she said without looking at the screen, "that's God's way of telling you off for your arrogance. Now, I have a case and I'll have to skip breakfast."

"And how is that your God punishing me? I'm not on your team anymore," he chuckled.

She whispered in his ear seductively. "If you knew what I was planning on doing with you after breakfast then, believe me, you're being punished."

He flushed and swallowed as she grinned and finally looked at the screen. "Oh, it's not work, it's Karen."

He grinned back and waggled his eyebrows. "So, post breakfast activities are still a go, are they?"

"Hush!" she giggled as she hit the answer button. Cheerfully, "Hey, Karen! Sure, I can talk."

She talked for five minutes as Jane prepared breakfast. When she hung up he placed a coffee in her hand before setting two plates of scrambled eggs and toast on the kitchen table.

"Thanks," she said, taking a grateful sip before digging into breakfast enthusiastically. "Don't know how I could be hungry when we had those meatballs at three am."

"Well, we worked it off some afterwards," he replied with a glint in his eye.

"Guess so," she said, smiling shyly with a soft blush.

"So, from your call, sounds like Stan is driving Karen crazy being at home all day. How long until he goes back to work?

"Few weeks still. If she doesn't kill him by then."

Jane chuckled as he drank some orange juice. "I could take him out for a boys' night, something like that if it'd help ease the pressure?" he offered.

"Oh...oh...that's sweet of you. But he's not supposed to be drinking. That's probably why he's getting on her nerves. And she on his when she tells him off for sneaking one when she's not looking. They'll be fine, they have their ups and downs like everyone else. He knows he's lucky even if his ass has to be kicked every now and then to remind him of that."

"Well, it doesn't have to be drinking, could take him to a game...whatever."

"You hate watching Sports."

"Yes. But I'd do it, anyway. Besides, I like Stan. Be nice to get to know him better."

She put her knife and fork down and kissed him softly. "Thank you. But you don't need to ingratiate yourself with my family, Patrick. You already won them over at Annie's party, remember?"

As she resumed eating he said calmly as he bit into a slice of toast, "Hmm. I suppose it would look strange. Me offering to spend time with Stan when they still think Ryan is your boyfriend."

Her coffee cup stopped at her lips and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "You were listening in to my conversation?"

"If you wanted it to be a private one you should have went into the bedroom to talk."

She sighed. "Patrick...it's not...Karen was just in the mood to talk, vent, you know, not listen. It wasn't the right time to tell her. She'd have a million questions and I'd have been on the phone all day. I'll tell her when I see her. I promise."

"Sorry," he said quietly. "Guess this is all so new I'm still expecting you to change your mind."

She kissed him. "I won't."

"So, you'll tell them about us?"

"Yes. As soon as I see them."

He nodded with a smile. "Okay, good."

He noticed her become distracted as they continued to eat breakfast. "It's okay," he told her gently. "I know you don't want this to become public knowledge for now. Outside your family, that is."

Her head whipped round to him. "How-?"

"People from the D.A.'s office visit the CBI all the time. You don't want Ryan to hear about us for now to save his feelings. Also, you don't want him to imagine for a second that we were together like this when you were still with him. You don't want anyone else to think the same. You want the dust to settle first."

She let go of a breath. "You understand? Really? Because I don't want you to think I'm unsure in any way. I'm not."

His lips found hers. "I know. I understand. As long as we can still be together I really don't give a damn who knows or who doesn't know about us at work in the short term."

"Thank you."

He slathered some butter on a piece of toast and looked at her sidelong with a small smirk. "So...I guess making out in your office is off the cards for now, is it?" he quipped.

Her steadfast gaze met his. "Even if I put an announcement in the Sacramento Bee about us being together that still wouldn't be happening anytime in your lifetime."

"Oh, we'll see about that," he said confidently with a smile behind his teacup.

* * *

Breakfast completed they did the dishes together. As soon as they were finished he turned to her. "I agree," he said with a curt nod of his chin.

"On?" she frowned.

"While it would be lovely to go to bed for the day we need to discuss Red John and this conspiracy."

She gaped for a millisecond before she recovered. "Okay. You have to tell me how you do that!"

He smiled enigmatically. "Where's the fun in that?"

She relaxed her shoulders. "You really do agree?" she asked timidly. "Earlier, I know I intimated-"

"Oh, I'll keep you to your promise this evening but now, now we need to talk, not play. Results from Partridge will be in any minute. I need to be brought up to speed."

"I know. We really should have talked last night but then..."

He smiled. "Then you attacked me, ripped my clothes off and we got distracted."

"I did not!"

He laughed. "It really wasn't a criticism."

She rolled her eyes.

"So, let's get to it, shall we?" he said, his tone stripped of its humour suddenly.

Hers matched his. "I've been thinking about this. I think it's easier if I show you than tell you, actually."

"How do you mean?"

"Get your jacket and I'll explain on the way."

* * *

They arrived at a self storage lot on the outskirts of Sacramento. Each unit was self contained with a large metal rolling garage door at the front. Lisbon checked the lot was empty before leading Jane to unit forty-two, tucked away at the back corner and out of sight of the main road.

"Minelli hired this out?" he asked as she dug a key out of her pocket.

She nodded, checking again there was no one around.

"Good spot, easy to see anyone who might follow but off the road."

"Yeah, I know. He pays cash too, did a deal with the owner so no paper trail."

He smiled slightly. "Isn't that against the law?"

She raised an eyebrow as she inserted the key then pulled the door open from bottom to top, the sound of scraping metal echoing against the quiet.

As Jane was about to cross the threshold and turn on the light she put a hand up to his stomach. "Wait!"

She peered into the dark just beside him and pressed what looked like another light switch just inside the door, not visible at first sight.

"Okay, go ahead," she said with a quick nod.

Jane looked at her curiously as he stepped inside. As he turned on the light a fluorescent tube blinked until the space was bathed in a bright light. Lisbon quickly entered behind him and pulled the metal shutter down again. He carefully examined the switch she'd handled. Seeing nothing of import he looked at her expectantly.

She nodded behind him then overhead. Jane followed her gaze and narrowed his eyes at the small black box barely visible through an air conditioning unit that held a small security camera, its light taped over.

"Nice," he commented. "If anyone comes across this place you can record their snooping. You wouldn't even know it was there unless you went looking for it."

"Yeah, the switch controls the camera. Minelli gets an alert on his phone when it starts recording." She smiled. "As he likes to play golf on Saturday I didn't think he'd want the interruption."

"Last thing you want to do with a golfer is put them off their game," he agreed. "Has it ever caught anyone?" he asked, nodding to the unit again just below the ceiling.

"Not yet."

He turned to take in the rest of the space that went back over twenty feet and was at least ten feet wide.

The left hand wall displayed photographs of all of Red John's victims. When Jane examined them more closely, he noticed they were in chronological order of death. "You did this," he said to Lisbon softly, the photographs of lifeless corpses staring back at him.

"Yeah. My addition to the room, I guess," she added with a small shrug.

"Remind me not to come to you for any home decorating tips."

"Macabre, I know." She breathed out. "Anytime I feel like giving up or...I wonder why I'm still doing this...I come here. The photos...they help me remember, I suppose."

As he rubbed her back soothingly she rummaged in her bag. "Which reminds me..." She pulled out a case file photograph of the butchered body of Laura Cole, and, handling it reverently, walked to the far end of the wall. She reached over to an old white plastic picnic table set at the corner of the room and picked up some tape. Silently she added the photograph to the others, smoothing it down with pursed lips. She smiled sadly at it and nodded. "We'll get him for you," she whispered. "I promise."

Jane stayed at the other end of the room, watching her avidly, and looked to his shoes when she spoke, feeling like an intruder at a grave site.

She drew a deep breath a half of a second later and had composed herself entirely by the time she'd walked back to him. "So, any thoughts?" she asked calmly, no trace of emotion.

He matched her no nonsense tone. "Well, quite a lot to look at, obviously."

In addition to the victims of Red John on one wall, the opposing wall held three large whiteboards. The back wall, as well as the table that could seat two rather uncomfortably in rigid metal folding chairs and was littered with an electric kettle, a coffee maker and stationery mostly, lay three filing cabinets. Beside it were a small fridge and a cupboard that held tea, coffee and some snacks. A rubbish bin tipping over with paper cups and paper plates sat next to it. A large dark blue velvet couch sat in the middle of the room, currently facing the three whiteboards, a matching armchair beside it with a small cherrywood end table that housed a glass emerald shaded brass lamp. Jane presumed these were Minelli's cast offs, their style traditional. The room was functional at best and highly mismatched, but its purpose was clear - track down Red John and his followers.

He strolled over to the white boards, starting with the one furthest away. At the top of the board in black ink letters and Lisbon's handwriting were the words UNDER INVESTIGATION.

Below it was a long list of what he presumed were all cops, some he'd heard of and some he hadn't.

He pointed at the names. "How do you decide who's worth looking into?"

"Whispers, mainly. Wrong decisions being made. Criminals walking. Evidence missing."

"And the most important weapon in your arsenal," he nodded.

Lisbon eyed him curiously.

"Your gut," he smiled. "Well, yours and Minelli's. You're not cops this long without acquiring a quick read on someone. Even if you then tamper it down with what you've been taught at Detective School."

"Detective School?" she replied with a raised eyebrow and a gentle smile.

He waved her off. "You know what I mean. So, what happens then?"

"We check financials and so on. See if there's evidence of them being paid off around the times they screwed up. Read up on previous cases they've worked. See if it's just a one off or if it's a pattern of behaviour. See if there's a history where we can connect them with other people who've done the same kinds of things or for the same people."

"Mm," he said with disinterest, "the usual painstaking investigations you cops insist on, then."

She bristled, "You got a better idea on how to handle this?"

He ignored her question and moved on to one of his own. "So, what if you decide they're part of this?"

She pointed at the next whiteboard that held half a dozen names and was titled CONFIRMED. One named HILLS had a black line through it. He noticed Hannigan's as the first one on the list. "Then we add them here," she stated. "So far, we don't have many as you can see. We started off by looking into Hannigan further, examine people he was in regular contact with who committed similar misdeeds. We figure, as much as we can at this stage, anyway, that the people here are part of his 'cell'."

Jane nodded. "So you believe that each group of these individuals makes up a unit where only they know each other. They don't know other members apart from those they already know. Another unit - the same applies. And so on. And so on. How do they work as a collective, then? One guy in charge of each team who only knows another guy in charge of another team? Something like that?"

"That's our assumption. This has been going on for a while. In private and securely. The only way to protect the entirety of the operation is to keep each circle small so even if one unit is discovered and closed down-"

"The others can continue and a new one replaces it soon after. Clever. Efficient. Organised. How do they interact with those further up the chain, though, to ensure it works as a collective and can be controlled by those in charge?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't got that far yet."

"So, what have you done so far with the names you have confirmed? And who is Hills? He's crossed out so I'm guessing he's dead."

She stiffened. "Yeah, he is. He was reported to Professional Standards by one of his colleagues over some drug bust he was involved in where some product went missing. Next thing I heard he killed himself and left a suicide note before he could be prosecuted. Found with a bag of cocaine on him."

"A set up, you believe?"

She nodded. "Absolutely. He had no history of drug abuse. It showed us one thing-"

"To take no further action against anyone until you know more about the members higher up. That they'll eliminate anyone who might decide to confess their sins if you come close to closing down a cell."

"Exactly. It's a delicate operation, Patrick. If we interrogate one person and they don't comply or it gets out we've even approached them then this is all out in the open. Anyone of importance might run or go underground and that includes Red John. You think I don't want to haul every one of these bastards in and question them until they break? We will. But we can't yet. Not without knowing more about this entire network."

He sighed. "So, in the meantime they continue to do whatever they've been doing without punishment."

"It's far from ideal, I know that. But we have to concentrate on the bigger picture. For CBI staff, Minelli has been able to pull them onto teams where they'll cause least damage. And we keep watch on them all, the cases they work and so on."

"I could help, perhaps, in turning one of them?"

She nodded. "If you think you can pinpoint who would be best to approach without us getting caught then absolutely, we'd be glad to hear your thoughts."

He nodded. "But you still have the bigger problem. They only know a small number of others. Even if they turn on their own cell it doesn't get us much further. We need someone higher up the food chain if we have a chance of identifying Red John. Because there's absolutely no way he's a minion in all of this."

"I agree. Any ideas?"

He smiled at her. "I think I might."

"Really?"

Still smiling, he strolled over to the remaining board, titled TRUSTED. He read Lisbon, Minelli's and Pat's names along with a few others including Ryan's and Bosco's, a line through its centre. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her dip her head slightly. "You need to stop blaming yourself for Bosco," he said to her gently.

She nodded and spoke quickly with little conviction. "Yeah." She cleared her throat, "So, what's this idea of yours?"

"There should be more names than already written here."

She frowned slightly then nodded. "Oh, right, I guess there should be." With that she walked over to the whiteboard and lifted the black marker resting on the metal strip at the bottom of it. She shot him a quick smile and wrote PATRICK JANE.

He smiled and came to stand beside her. "Thank you but it actually wasn't me I was talking about." He pecked the top of her head and took the marker from her hand. He wrote three more names in a column under his own.

CHO

RIGSBY

VAN PELT

He replaced the marker and looked at her expectantly. Softly, "Why haven't you told them about this? Because I know you trust them, Teresa. As you should."

She chewed on her bottom lip for a second. "I do...I...I don't know why I haven't. We're trying to keep this quiet so-"

"I can understand that. But the reason you haven't told them isn't because of that. It's because you're afraid. If you write their names then it means you have to tell them. And if you tell them-"

"It puts them at risk," she finished for him quietly. She sighed then looked up at him. "Why do you insist on asking me questions you already know the answer to?"

"It amuses me," he smiled. More serious, "It's time they're involved. It's necessary now."

"I know," she sighed again. "Been putting it off." She closed her eyes then opened them again quickly. "So, do you really have an idea on how to get further up the chain?"

"I do."

When he continued to smile at her and say nothing she rolled her eyes. "You wanna tell me what it is?"

"You don't want to guess?"

Impatiently, "No."

He laughed. "Okay. Simple, really. We don't start at the bottom and work our way up. We start near the top instead."

She furrowed her brow. "We-what?"

As he opened his mouth to respond her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. As she fished it out she said, "It's Minelli."

"Someone's in trouble for spoiling his round," Jane smiled.

She answered it with a crisp, "Lisbon."

After a few seconds Jane saw her blanch and shake her head. She spoke breathlessly, "No. No, that can't be right. That isn't possible. You know this is a set up, Boss." She looked at Jane uneasily, panic in her eyes as she continued to listen to Minelli speak.

Finally, she spoke again. "How long until they prepare the warrant? Can't you delay it? Just until I talk to him. Boss, please." She released a breath as she thanked him a second later and hung up.

"Results are in from Partridge, I assume," Jane said grimly. "And it's someone you know."

She nodded. Distractedly, "Yeah. Yeah. They said they've found a match."

When she didn't immediately continue and the line between her eyes became more pronounced instead, he said urgently, "Teresa?"

Suddenly she snapped her attention back to him and looked him dead in the eye. Solemnly, "Patrick, it's Ryan. They're saying Ryan is Red John."


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28 - Determined

"Ryan?" Jane repeated. A frown developed quickly."Well, that's...that's certainly an interesting development."

"No, it's not," Lisbon stated strongly, "it's a goddamned nightmare."

He nodded with pursed lips. Concerned, "What's happening now?"

"Minelli's approved him being brought in for questioning. He has no choice in the matter. Anything else would look suspicious or some kind of preferential treatment." She sighed. "He wanted me to know first."

"But your team is in charge of the Red John investigation so...?"

"Haffner's going to question him instead. I'm too close to Ryan, obviously, to take any part in the interrogation. And it looks cleaner if my team aren't involved either," she said with an eye roll. She nodded to his jacket. "I'd imagine Ray will want you in there to assist, only a matter of time before he calls once Ryan's been brought into Headquarters."

"Yeah, that won't be awkward at all," Jane said, supplying an eye roll of his own.

She acknowledged his statement with a shrug. Softly, "I'm glad it's you. At least...at least there'll be someone I trust in that room. I imagine that's why Virgil assigned Haffner in the first place."

Jane rubbed her shoulder consolingly. Softly, "Hey, it's going to be okay. I promise."

She shook her head. "I have to talk to him before he's blindsided, Patrick. Maybe I can do something..."

She looked at her watch. "I have time to get to San Francisco...maybe...before the paperwork's been signed off."

At lightning speed she was at the door, swinging it open with force. "Come on, you can take me back to my car at your place and I might just make it."

"What are you planning? The wheels are in motion already, Teresa."

"I'll explain on the way to your apartment."

"Okay, but I have a better idea, I'll drive you to San Francisco instead. Save us going back to fetch your vehicle and, besides that, my car's faster."

She furrowed her brow. "I-I don't know if that's a good idea. He really...I don't know how he'd respond to you coming with me. And if you have to talk to him in a professional capacity after that then..."

"Look, I'll just drive you there. I can wait in the car if you insist. So come on, times a wasting."

She nodded quickly. "Okay, let's go."

* * *

She jabbed a button on her Blackberry with a frustrated grunt. "Damn it! That's four messages I've left him! Why won't he pick up?"

Jane calmly weaved through traffic on the Freeway, his Ferrari purring appreciatively as he increased its speed. "You broke up with him the night before last," he reminded her, "unlikely he'll want to talk to you presently."

"Oh god," she said through gritted teeth, "of course he won't."

She placed her phone in her lap and let out a long breath of annoyance. A beat passed in silence. "What were you suggesting earlier?" she asked, recalling their conversation before Minelli had phoned. "About starting at the top or something to bring down this conspiracy?"

"You want to go into all that now?"

She shrugged. "We have time. Like you said Ryan doesn't want to talk to me over the phone quite obviously."

"Very well. Like I said it's quite simple. What you're currently doing is working from the bottom of the pile, people like Hannigan and so on. The people who do the grunt work, most probably. Not planners in this organisation, agreed?"

"Yeah, figured they'd be easier to turn, they've less play in the stakes and maybe some of them even got into this thing before they knew what it actually was. Some might be looking for a way out."

"I daresay you're right. It's how a number of them may have become caught up initially. A slight blurring of the lines here and there to begin with...then, before they know it, they're knee-deep in cover-ups or worse and can't get out."

She nodded. "So, what's your approach if not by approaching those kinds of members? Because you were right before. Even if we find one willing to tell us what they know without it attracting attention there's a bottleneck inbuilt to catch many more of them."

"You believe Red John _is_ a decision maker in this. One of the top dogs. Yes?"

"Yes. He might even be the one in charge of all of it for all I know."

Confidently, "So, we find him first. Take down this organisation top to bottom instead of bottom to top. We know he's one of the main players, so he leads us to the rest. Once the top layers fall then the people at the bottom will scramble. It'd be like shooting fish in a barrel."

She gaped at him and said nothing for a split second. Agog, "Oh, just like that, huh? Why didn't I think of that? We just catch Red John first, perfectly simple then. What have I been thinking all this time?"

He smiled. "No need for sarcasm, my dear. Your next question is how we catch him, I take it?"

She smoothed the screen of her phone with her fingertips slowly to exhaust her annoyance when he used that patronising tone of his. "Yes, that would be really good," she said with a frisson of irritation.

He glanced at her quickly with another smile before he faced ahead again. "When did you take over the Red John investigation? Right after Bosco was killed?"

"Yes." Her tone was measurably softer at the mention of her old friend and mentor.

"We start with the cases you dealt with directly after that," he said, his voice matching hers.

"Why? What do they matter?"

"Because you'd just become the lead detective in his investigation. Red John would have wanted to meet you in some capacity, see what you're made of. Assess your mettle, your threat level to him. And as we've agreed he works around law enforcement somewhere, most likely that would be on a case you worked."

Shocked, "You-you think I've met him?"

He squinted ahead. Equally surprised, "You think you haven't?"

"I-I've never really thought about it."

"Then I suggest you start."

A line formed between her eyes. "I'd need to look back at the case files but...but this is thin as a theory, Patrick. That's why you want the team involved now too, I take it?"

"They worked those cases too. Many heads are better than one as they say."

"I-I still don't know-"

"You got a better idea? Right now you're just scratching the surface of this organisation and simultaneously hoping he'll screw up. Let's try an offensive approach."

"What about Partridge? He knows plenty if he's willing to fabricate evidence like he has. Believe me, I could make that worm talk."

He chuckled. "I have no doubt about that. _If_ he is the worm he purports to be. But if he's not...if his public face is just a clever persona-"

"Then he'll lead me wherever he wants me to go," she finished for him.

"Precisely. And even if you did start interrogating him or questioning his methods right out of the gate you're showing more of your hand to Red John than you need to right now. Perhaps it's exactly what he wants you to do. Perhaps he's not sure of what you know or who you've investigated thus far – if you go after Partridge he'll know you're up to your neck in this."

"I don't much care at this instant what the hell he suspects," she snapped.

He sighed. "Patience. You need to allow this to play out. For now. See where he's heading with this."

She raised her voice. "We know where he's heading with this! Framing Ryan!"

"Even with the evidence against him, there's no way any charges can stick for long. Red John killed many women, Teresa. What are the chances Ryan doesn't have an alibi for most if not all of those murders? It must be a ploy or a test for you instead. It's the only thing that makes sense to me."

She sighed. "It would still take some time to corroborate those alibis."

"I know," he said quietly.

"So until then we just allow him to get detained?"

He looked sideways at her. "Unless you have a better proposal."

She nibbled her lower lip in silence for a few seconds. "I think I just might."

"Oh?"

* * *

They made it to Ryan's hotel in San Francisco in less than an hour. As Lisbon unbuckled her seatbelt with a comment that she might have sustained whiplash he put a hand on her arm before she got out. "Look, don't shoot the messenger but...but I've been thinking some more on the way here. Are you quite sure-?"

"Ryan is not Red John, Patrick," she cut in. "You were the one who agreed Partridge was helping Red John set someone up in the first place!"

"Yes...yes, I did. And-"

"What?! Because Ryan vaguely fits your profile of Red John now you've changed your mind?"

"No...At least I don't think so. I just...I just want to make sure that you've thought this through before you go talk to him. Were there any signs that he could be-?"

"No."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Think before you answer, Teresa. Please. It's important you look at this objectively."

She exhaled loudly and said nothing for a second or two. She shook her head. "There were no warning signs, Patrick. He's a good man. He's not Red John," she enunciated clearly.

He nodded. "Okay. I believe you. Be careful just in case. This could be a trap of some kind. I'm sorry but where Red John is concerned I might have a tendency to freak out where you're concerned."

She brushed his lips with her own briefly. "I'll be fine. I'll be back soon. Stay here, don't get into any trouble."

As she opened the car door he asked, "You think he'll agree to your plan?"

She put her hand on the gun at her hip. "If he doesn't I know a way of making him."

* * *

After flashing her badge to the receptionist she found Ryan's room in the midpriced hotel chain he was staying in. So far she was the first cop who'd requested to see him. But it wouldn't be long before others showed up.

She knocked twice. When there was no response she called through the door. "Ryan? It's Teresa. Open up. It's important."

She hoped he hadn't gone to the coffee shop she'd noticed around the corner for breakfast. Just as she was in two minds to call Jane and check for her she heard movement from inside followed by the loud _clank_ of the door hinge and a heavy lock being turned.

When the door opened she was met with her ex-boyfriend, eyes like pinpricks as he scanned her blurrily. He had thick two-day stubble and was wearing only black boxers. "Teresa? What are you doing here?"

His breath smelled of stale whisky and for a brief second, she was reminded of her father when she woke up each day in her teenage years. Her stomach tightened of its own accord.

"We need to talk," she said, brushing past him quickly. The unmade bed and blackout blinds made her swallow. Ryan was an early riser normally. But obviously not when heartbroken. She forced the guilt she felt deep down inside and opened the blinds to draw in some light.

"Christ, Teresa!" he exclaimed, squinting as the sun burned through his bloodshot retinas. He wiped his eyes as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Get dressed," she said. "We need to talk."

"So you've said already," he yawned, staring at his toes as he stretched them. Suddenly his eyes flew to hers. "Have you-have you changed your mind about us?"

The hope in his expression made another wave of guilt course through her like wildfire. "No," she said sadly. "I'm sorry...no, I-I haven't changed my mind about that," she added gently.

His shoulders sagged. Dejectedly, "Right, of course, you haven't."

He got off the bed with a long sigh and began to make the bed haphazardly to busy himself. "What's so important then?"

"You're about to be arrested."

He laughed as his hands stopped moving on fixing a sheet momentarily. "Oh? What for? Certainly wasn't for stealing your heart, was it?" he said as he stood up again with his hands on his hips.

"Ryan, please, this is serious."

"So definitely not about us, then," he suggested with a thin smile, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Damn it, Ryan! There's evidence that you're Red John!"

He gasped, "What?! What are you talking about?"

Speedily, she explained the evidence Partridge had planted/found. "This is crazy," he concluded, shaking his head. "I'm not...I'm not Red John, Teresa." He slumped back down on the bed again.

"I know you're not," she said softly as she came to sit beside him. "Ryan, did you ever meet Laura Cole? Would there be any legitimate reason why your DNA would be in her room?"

"No. I'd never heard of her until I heard about her murder the other day," he said with an abject shake of his head.

"Where were you the night she was murdered?"

He waved a hand around the hotel room. "Here, either working or sleeping, where else?"

"Is there anyone who could corroborate that for you?"

"I had dinner with Osvaldo around eight, he was down here helping me with my prep. Called you...uh...about ten or so, something like that?"

She nodded. "Yeah, that call can be traced, it'll help."

"But the murder was a few hours after that."

"Yes."

He shook his head. "Then I have no alibi. Went to sleep straight after that. Didn't receive or make any other calls or see anyone until the next morning." Abruptly, "Hang on, is this an interrogation?"

"Of course it isn't. I'm just trying to find another explanation for your DNA or a quick way out of this for you. Grasping at straws, I guess."

They locked eyes, brown meeting green worriedly. "Partridge is involved in this? Can't you discredit him or something? If anyone has skeletons in his closet it's that freak of nature."

"Not without raising suspicions further when there's no evidence he's done anything that hasn't been by the book. But don't think I won't be looking into him off the books."

He snorted. "So I just get hung me out to dry instead? Is that the plan?"

"No," she said, placing a hand on his. "I'm not going to allow that to happen either."

He looked down at their hands, her small one placed on top of his. He rubbed a thumb over hers before he got off the bed with a long sigh. "This is connected to the work you've been doing, isn't it? Red John or someone connected to him is trying to get to you through me? Set me up like this so you'll back off?"

"I don't know why this happening. But yes, it could be. I don't know what the end game is, Ryan. But this is Red John so whatever it is-"

"Jesus, Teresa! How could you allow this to happen? I thought you were being careful with those investigations?!"

She raised her voice too. "I _have_ been, Ryan!"

"Obviously not careful enough. You've got his attention, that's for damn sure now!" He took a calming breath. "I'm not just afraid for myself but for you too. If he's taken some kind of personal interest in you-"

"I always knew that was a possibility the more I investigated. I'm just so sorry he's gone after you instead of making some kind of point directly to me."

Dourly, "Well, I'd rather he came after me than you if that's the choice we're facing."

She blushed at his chivalry. "Like I said, I don't know for sure why this is happening but it is. But I have a plan to fix it. Or...at least, for now, to make sure things don't escalate any further."

"How could you manage that? You said they're coming for me. You can't stop it, Teresa."

"Come with me now. I'll get you somewhere you'll be safe until I can figure out what his next move is or I can alibi you out for the previous Red John murders."

"How do you mean?"

"We don't let them put you in custody. He has friends in law enforcement. I may not be able to protect you if you get detained."

"You want me to go into hiding?"

"Just for now. Just until-"

"No," he interrupted. Firmly, "I'm not going to do that."

"Ryan-"

"Teresa, I'm not running." His determined features met hers.

She got off the bed and stormed up to him. "Damn it, Ryan! Didn't you hear what I said? Anything could happen to you when you get to the CBI! And if you're arrested and put into holding-"

"I'll take my chance."

She shook her head. "Why on earth would you do that?"

He smiled sadly at her. "Because I believe in the justice system. I'm not Red John and it'll be proven I'm not Red John. I have faith in that. Partridge's evidence will be proven to be planted in due course. Besides which, have you considered that this is what Red John wants? To have you make me run? All it would do is put further credence behind this abominable accusation if I did."

"That's all very noble and I wish I had the trust in the system you do but I don't. Not where he's involved. And maybe you're right. Maybe Red John wants you to run. But I don't _care_ what he wants because at least you'll be safe if you do."

Softly, "I'm going to be fine. Now...now you should go. It's going to look suspicious if you're here when they come pick me up."

Beseechingly, "Ryan, please-"

Firmly, "I've made my decision, Teresa. Now go. And you don't have to worry, I'm not going to spill any beans on what you've been up to either. I'm going to tell myself what I used to tell my clients when I was a public defender – keep your mouth closed and admit nothing without a lawyer present. I have a good one I can call. Thanks for the heads up."

"I don't..." Exasperated, "Please, Ryan-"

He moved closer and ran his fingers down her cheek. Softly, "Thank you for trying to protect me. Now let me return the favour."

* * *

She walked back to Jane's car, her strides slow and measured, defeat in her posture. He shot her a look of consolation, a paper cup of tea in his hand as he leant against the driver's door, his face tilted towards the sun until he'd seen her.

"I feared you'd need this," he said as she came to face him, stooping down to fetch a cappuccino from the inside of his car through the open window.

She took the coffee with a thankful smile and drank a sip. "He wouldn't listen to me. He's dead set on facing this head on."

He nodded to her Glock. "You decided not to persuade him to disappear via gunpoint, then?" He was only half joking.

"Maybe I should have. But no...his mind was clearly set. But maybe...maybe if we'd still been together he would have - even just to make me happy-"

"You can't blame yourself for his decisions, Teresa. Even if his determination to face this head on is admirable but also incredibly naive."

She drank from the cup again then straightened her shoulders. "Yeah, maybe. I don't know anymore. Let's get back to Sacramento. There's nothing more we can do here," she sighed.

* * *

Ryan watched the street from his hotel room window four floors up as Jane placed a gentle kiss on Lisbon's forehead, his lips lingering just a little longer than would denote friendship alone. His eyes narrowed as he watched the blond take an empty coffee cup from her and throw it and his own into a waste bin situated near the front bumper of his car. He saw her dimples as she smiled shyly at her former consultant as she moved to the passenger door of his Ferrari, a new and shared intimacy in their postures as they glanced at each other in passing on the pavement below.

He quickly recalled how she'd smelt as she'd sat beside him minutes before, something different about her he hadn't properly processed. It wasn't her usual soap he knew now. It was _his_ , presumably.

Only one thought permeated his thoughts. And it wasn't his imminent arrest.

 _Just how long had she been making a fool out of him?_

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for your patience. Struggling writing both** **inspiration** **wise and** **time wise** **lately. Apologies for not responding to reviews either, but please know that I appreciate every single one. I'll try to do much better with that next year.**

 **And thanks again for all your lovely words of support in general both here and via Twitter over the past year, they really do mean the world to me and some** **stories may well have been left unfinished if it weren't for them** **.**

 **And to those who read my recent Christmas** **one-shot,** _ **Blue Christmas**_ **, thank you also.**

 **I'm a little behind in catching up with fic reading myself lately but will attend to that next week when life returns to normal.**

 **Have a great New Year and I'll see you back here in 2017.**


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29 - A Different Perspective

"Hey, you did what you could," Jane stated, his hands on the wheel again as they made their return to Sacramento. She'd said no more than two words since leaving Ryan's hotel room ten minutes prior. Her frown appeared set in stone as she stared out the windshield. "It was his right to make the decision for himself, Teresa."

"Since when are you so reasonable in these matters?" she said, snapping at him. Immediately she apologised afterwards for her outburst with a deep sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge, Patrick. I know that...I just wished he hadn't made that particular one."

"So, what's next?"

She fished her phone out of her inside jacket pocket. "Might as well get this plan of yours into motion. Or theory...whatever you want to call it."

Pressing numbers on her keypad rapidly she added, "I'm just texting the team, hopefully they're free to come to my place so I can fill them in. Don't much feel like going somewhere public to discuss this and the storage facility might be a bit full on for the first debrief. I know it's Saturday but-"

"They'll come. They'll know you wouldn't spoil their weekend plans for no good reason." He continued with a smile, "You're not that much of a tyrant for a boss." A well planned pause. "Well, not always."

She tried not to smile back, head lowered as she texted beside him. "How about you? You going to wait around for Haffner to call you in?"

"Thought I'd drop by to see Minelli, find out the skinny first hand, see if there are any further developments."

She nodded, "You'll fill me in?"

"Naturally, my dear."

Less than five minutes later Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt had confirmed they'd see Lisbon at her apartment later in the day. A voicemail from Haffner to Jane's cell soon followed, asking him to come to the CBI to give his input into a case his team had picked up.

"He left it vague intentionally," Lisbon informed him, listening to the message on speaker as Jane drove.

"Hm. Probably doesn't want me to tip you off considering our history. He wouldn't be aware that Minelli would have told you already and probably ordered him to take precautionary measures to keep this quiet."

"True. The press will be all over this if Ryan is actually charged. Maybe...maybe even before then. Speculation and suspicion like this will be hard to contain. This is Red John - no matter what precautions are taken they're going to find out about this soon enough unless he can be cleared quickly. Brenda Shetrick will be on Minelli's ass for a statement." She began to talk faster as she listed off the possible ramifications, "And the FEDs will want to muscle in...And Ryan's parents...what the hell are they going to think?-"

"I admit Minellii has his hands full juggling all the balls in the air this has thrown at him. And you, come to that. This is clever play by Red John if that was his intention."

She detected a note of admiration in Jane's tone. "I'm so glad he's managed to impress you," she retorted coolly.

He sighed. "You know what I mean, Teresa."

"Yeah," she nodded, taking a deep breath. Wearily, "Unfortunately, I do."

* * *

They fell into more of an easy silence shortly after, both lost in their own thoughts until, as she looked out of the side window, a honk from a white limousine packed with blondes in skimpy matching pink tank tops and hanging out of its windows got her attention. The associated wolf whistles and pointing made her turn her face forward again with a silent huff. Not that they noticed, their eyes only trained on the man beside her. This was all she needed. A slight quirk of Jane's lips was the only recognition that he'd noticed the hullabaloo coming from the car beside as he kept his eyes firmly trained on the road ahead.

She looked around the gleaming red leather inside of his car and then stared at Jane. "You planning on keeping this car?"

His smile widened a little, accelerating past what he guessed was a bachelorette party in full swing. "You don't like my Ferrari?" he asked evenly, ignoring the whooping of the horns and flashing lights that accompanied his gesture.

Briskly, "It's a bit much for everyday driving, isn't it?"

He chanced a quick grin at her. "You'd rather have me drive a beat up Mustang like you?"

She pulled her jacket around her and looked at the display on her phone, a blank screen staring back at her. Disgruntled, "No, not necessarily. But, well, something more sedate would be far more practical than this monstrosity, wouldn't it?"

"Not today it wouldn't," he argued. "Wouldn't have made it to San Francisco in half the time."

"Mm," she agreed unhappily, sinking back into her seat.

* * *

"Jane, come in," Minelli nodded quickly as he sat at his desk, ushering him in with a wave of his hand to shut the door behind him.

"This is quite the pickle, eh, Virgil?" the consultant said breezily.

Minelli cast him a look of stone and loosened his tie with irritation. To say he looked harassed would have been an understatement.

"You up to speed? Lisbon told me you were with her when I called."

"Yep," he replied, taking a seat opposite.

"Strange as it was quite early when I did and a Saturday too..." His boss's words trailed off as he narrowed his eyes at the other man.

"She was showing me your den at the time," Jane smiled, giving nothing else away.

"Hm, I see. Okay, good." He sighed loudly and shook his head, suspicious still. "Well, first things first. You talked to Haffner, I take it?"

"He left me a voicemail, asked me to come in. I take it our play here is to make sure Ryan says as little as possible without alerting Haffner to that fact. Regarding...all matters."

"Yes. You think he will keep his mouth shut under pressure from Ray? He can be quite the bulldog and if Ryan really were Red John then I'd expect no less, would demand it, in fact." He shook his head again, Jane wisely keeping his opinion to himself that he'd remind him of one of those bobble head dolls if he continued to do that much more. "Damn, I did demand it from him, in fact, what other choice did I have?!"

"Like I said, quite the pickle," Jane replied, his calmness only causing Minelli to become more aggrieved.

"Damn FEDs are clamouring for the case now too," he grumbled. "Like I need those idiots right now breathing down my throat."

"Okay, Virgil, just breathe, all right? Ryan will keep his mouth shut about you and Teresa's extra curricular activities no matter what Haffner throws at him."

"You better be right. Hope him being her boyfriend keeps him loyal to her and quiet until we can figure this out."

"Hm. Yes."

Minelli detected slight discomfort in Jane's posture as he replied before he adopted a calm facade again. "He will be loyal to her, right? You haven't done anything..." The penny finally dropped, he added, "Christ, are you and Lisbon...?" Another shake of the head, choosing not to finish that sentence, "You are, aren't you?" he said instead.

Before Jane could respond Minelli huffed, "Never mind, I'd rather not know. I'd rather be kept in the dark about such matters." He leaned back in his chair, eyed the other man warily. "But if you hurt her I'll kick your ass to Timbuktu."

Jane smiled slowly. "As you should. Understood, Virgil."

A small smile crept across Minelli's lips. "Well, okay then. Can't say I'm too surprised. Anyhow, this reinforces my point – will Ryan keep his mouth shut or not? Less motive to do so, now, I'd imagine."

"Loyalty to her shouldn't come into it. Although I'd guess he will be, anyway. He's still in love with her, after all. Plus he has nothing to gain from throwing you two under the bus. It would make him more of a liability in Red John's eyes, not less so."

"Yes...yes, of course."

"That's not really the question you wanted to ask me, though, is it? And the fact you wanted to see me alone without Teresa present? You wanted to ask me straight out if I thought Ryan could actually be Red John."

Minelli sighed. "Lisbon can't be expected to be impartial but you and I have to be. After your...your summation on the type of man he might be I'd be amiss not posing the question. What if Partridge did nothing except for his job? What if the evidence is pointing us in the right direction?"

"That would mean Red John made a mistake. He doesn't make them. I've already pondered this question. I'm ninety-nine percent certain Ryan isn't him."

"Not one hundred?"

"Well, not much is one hundred percent guaranteed, Virgil. But I'm as certain as I can be."

"All right, good enough."

* * *

"There you are! Where were you?" Haffner barked to Jane as the consultant sauntered into the bullpen. "I saw your car in the lot fifteen minutes ago, where have you been until now?"

Jane had to smile at the man's growing unease. The pressure of interrogating possibly Red John was weighing heavily on him. He ignored the question and eased himself onto his couch with a sigh of approval, tea cup in hand.

Then he spoke. "Relax, Ray, I'm here now. All good things come to those who wait."

Haffner marched up to him and spoke quietly and quickly. "This is no time for jokes, Jane. This is..." He looked around. He whispered, "This is...big."

"Yes," Jane sighed, taking a long sip. "I spoke to Virgil already. You have Ryan Hastings in an interrogation room and the suspicion is that he's Red John."

"You-you spoke to Minelli?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, in passing when I got here today."

Irritated, "Well, then, if you wouldn't mind..." He motioned the way to the interrogation rooms.

"No luck getting anything from him so far, then?" Jane smiled, making no attempt to move. "Is that the reason for the grumpiness?"

"His lawyer will barely allow me to ask a question before he shuts it down. And he's a lawyer himself...so this...well, I'll be honest with you - this isn't going well and Minelli wants results."

He chanced a winning smile at Jane. "But come on, it's right up your street though, right, Patrick? Show us some of that god given talent of yours and let's catch this guy." He grinned wider, "And you can't deny the thought of locking up Teresa Lisbon's boyfriend doesn't give you some satisfaction." He shook his head. "Jeez, she'll go ape-shit about this when she hears about it. Can't believe she had Red John in her bed all this time-"

"All right," Jane interrupted sharply. "Enough, please."

He got up and faced the other man. "Thank you for the charm offensive but it really wasn't required. Especially not when your motives are as transparent as glass. And how sure are you that Hastings is Red John? Lisbon is a superior agent. I'd ask myself this question if I were you – do you really think she wouldn't have seen it if that were true?"

"We follow the evidence, that's what we do, Jane. Not my problem or yours what Teresa saw or didn't see. Love is blind as they say. Forensics-"

"That's the problem with you cops, you'll believe anything if a scientist says it is so. Have you even assigned one of your team members to check if he has alibis to any previous Red John murders yet but Laura Cole's? Perhaps start off easy and not take the bulldog approach for once."

Haffner scoffed. "I'm sorry, _you're_ telling me not to go at this full on. Well, if that isn't the kettle calling the pot black."

Jane shrugged nonchalantly. "Sounds like the sledgehammer approach isn't working to me. Just offering a different perspective." He took a purposeful step forward. "But if that's what you require from me then I'm merely a cog in your wheel-"

"Hey, Jane, hang on," Haffner said, putting a hand on his arm to stop him. He looked into his eyes. "You really think we should try something different or is this one of your mind games?"

Jane smiled enigmatically. "What is life but a game, Ray?"

With that, he strolled towards the interrogation room, a smirk playing on his lips.

Haffner wiped his brow with the palm of his hand and sighed loudly. "Damn manipulator."

He called to one of his team after a heavy grunt and a mouthed _dammit_. "Hey, Tork, get me the dates of the Red John murders and match any you can to Ryan Hastings' court appearances. I want to know where he was for each of them. Let's go at this more carefully before we talk to him again."

* * *

Jane opened the door to the interrogation room and was immediately met with two disgruntled faces. Ryan was dressed in a navy blue crew neck sweater and blue jeans, his dark features scanning Jane with unmasked agitation. His lawyer sat beside him, an older man in his mid fifties with salt and pepper hair and expensive grey suit.

"Alan Dickson," Ryan's lawyer supplied immediately. "Mr Hastings has no statement at this time."

Jane nodded amiably. "Good. Then there's no requirement for you to be here, is there?"

"And who are you, exactly?" Dickson asked.

"Patrick Jane," Ryan said in a monotone, raking his eyes over the blond again.

"Ryan," Jane said with a curt nod towards him. He smiled thinly at Lisbon's former paramour attempt to unsettle him with a staring contest.

He sat down opposite him instead, continuing to make eye contact. "Can we talk alone?" he asked him softly, his expression as unthreatening as possible.

Dickson jumped on the question. "No, you cannot." He pointed to the camera behind Jane. "And if you insist on interrogating my client any questions must be recorded-"

"It's okay, Alan," Ryan interrupted in the same soft tone Jane had used. "Give us five minutes."

"Ryan-"

Ryan nodded and looked at him. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. I've done nothing wrong so, for once, Mr Jane can't frame me with whatever scheme he might or might not have in mind."

His lawyer looked to Jane with outright suspicion.

"No schemes, I promise," Jane confirmed.

Another exchange between client and attorney later Dickson exited the interview room, albeit unhappily.

"So?" Ryan said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest. "You wanted to talk, talk. I bet you're loving this turn of events."

"Then you don't know me at all," he replied back with a gentle smile.

"Believe me, I know you well enough. Your type, I mean. Flashy, liar, manipulator-"

Jane sighed loudly. "When I have to be, yes. Absolutely."

Ryan shook his head with a mirthless laugh. "I see. Did you _have_ to be all those things when you fleeced people out of their life's savings for years too? The only way you could make a crust, was it? Just because you've decided it's time to use your skills to catch criminals do you really think it can negate all those years you were practically one yourself?"

"I'm not looking for redemption. And if I were I wouldn't expect to find it with you."

"No?"

Jane pursed his lips. "Is this how you want to spend this time? Insulting me? Let's cut this short and agree that you believe me to be a contemptuous human being and that I, in turn, really don't care what you think."

Ryan huffed. "Fine. What do you want, then?"

Jane turned his tone softer. "Just thought I'd check how you're doing, this is a lot of pressure."

Defensively, "You think I'm not man enough to cope with it?"

Jane rolled his eyes. Irritated, "All right, this was obviously a bad idea." He got off the chair. "I've got you some breathing space with Haffner, just sit tight and this'll all be over soon."

Ryan laughed humourlessly. "Just like my career and everything else in my life recently."

"If no charges are made-"

"C'mon, Patrick, you know better than that, don't treat me like a fool. You don't have to spare my feelings. My career is over here. This will hang over me for the rest of my life. Or-or until the real Red John is arrested.

Haffner and his team...I've known those people for years and they're looking at me like I've got horns all of a sudden. Never mind people who don't know me, can you imagine me trying to persuade a jury now in a case I'm running? Let's face it. I'm finished in this town even if I get released in forty-eight hours once news of this gets out. And why would Red John go to all this trouble if he didn't want that, huh?"

He stared at Jane. "All the better for you, though, huh? You get your fairytale ending with no one to interfere in it, don't you?"

Jane licked his lips. Quietly, "You know about Teresa and I."

Ryan fidgeted in his chair. "You mean your psychic skills didn't tell you that already?"

"She keeps telling me what a good man you are. So quit being an ass and proving her wrong. Look, I am sorry this has happened to you. All of it. But I'm not going to apologise for anything else."

Ryan looked to his lap. Annoyed, "Just leave me alone, will you? I have nothing more to say to you."

"Ryan-"

"Get the hell out of here, Patrick."

* * *

Lisbon opened the door to her apartment, Jane greeting her with a smile and bag of takeout.

"Hey," she said.

"Hi."

He bent down to kiss her and she drew back. She looked towards the living room at the end of the short entrance hall. "Team's still here," she whispered, pecking his lips quickly.

"Okay, I'll leave the deflowering until later, then," he smiled with a wink.

She blushed and took one of the takeout bags from him. Concerned, "Ryan - how is he?"

"Ah..." Jane exhaled deeply with a shrug. "They're holding him overnight as expected. Checking his alibis but it takes time. His lawyer's a good one, though, so that's something."

"You didn't answer my question."

Another shrug. "He's coping in his own way."

Lisbon nodded. "Everything okay between you two?"

"Sure, we're both grownups."

"Mm. Where is he being held? CBI?"

"Yeah. Ronson is on security detail outside his cell."

"Good. I've known him for years. Think-think he can be trusted."

"I think so too."

"How about Press attention?"

"Minelli's keeping a lid on it so far but I can't imagine it'll stay that way for long."

He nodded to the area behind them, the voices of her team members within earshot. "How's it going here?"

She smiled. Proudly, "Not bad, we've made some progress, come on, see for yourself."

* * *

Sheets of paper scrawled with names were the first thing Jane noticed when he entered the living room as they lay askew on Lisbon's coffee table.

"Nice place," he said, scanning the rest of the room after he'd greeted his old teammates. The food distributed they began to dish it up in Lisbon's kitchen as she and Jane stayed in the living room.

"Right, you haven't been here before," she responded as he lifted sheet after sheet and studied them quickly. "It's not fancy compared to what you're used to but-"

Distracted, "Hm. You just move in?"

"No. I've been here a while."

His eyes momentarily moved to two brown boxes beside a wall.

"Haven't quite finished unpacking yet," she added with some sheepishness.

His eyebrows quirked up. "Well, that's interesting."

"No, it isn't," she told him. "I'm busy, that's all. Doesn't mean anything."

"Uh-oh," he said with a smile as he sat on the couch and continued reading.

She sat beside him. "Speaking of which, we've been busy-"

"So I see."

He made a disgruntled noise and placed the papers back on the table with a loud sigh just as the rest of the team re-entered the room.

"What's wrong, Jane?" Van Pelt asked.

"That's what I was about to ask," Lisbon stated, suspicious.

Jane cleared his throat as he looked at the four faces staring at him for an answer. "Okay. Look, don't take this the wrong way-"

"Oh, boy," Rigsby muttered under his breath.

"We're toast," Cho offered, much in the same vein.

"What have we done wrong?" Lisbon asked. "We did as you suggested. After fetching the files we've been going over every case we were assigned since we got the Red John one. We've only managed to get through a couple of weeks so far but-"

"That's exactly my point," Jane interrupted.

"I don't understand," Van Pelt said.

Jane got to his feet to escape the ire in his new girlfriend's eyes. He addressed the room instead. "My guess from looking at what you've done so far is that you've written down every name you interacted with on those cases. Well, apart from the women, couldn't see any females noted."

"So, what's wrong with that? You don't think Red John is a woman, do you?" Rigsby asked, confused.

"So not my point. But, no, I don't believe so."

"Which was why we didn't add any women's names, _Jane_ ," Lisbon responded, "we did give some thought to this."

The use of his surname made him a little hot under the collar. The authoritarian side to her had always turned him on. Nevertheless, he replied brusquely, "Did you? Or were you so afraid of missing him you just wrote the names of pretty much every able-bodied man you talked to?"

Annoyed, "Well, we don't _know_ who he is so how else are we supposed to ensure we don't miss him by doing anything but that!"

"Instincts, Teresa, instincts."

He looked to the others, the temptation to kiss her when she was hot under the collar and fighting her corner not one he was sure he could withstand for too long. "You're cops. I understand that your normal practice is to sift through reams of statements to look for inconsistencies, take notes of everything you do. That you leave no stone uncovered. Admirable and painstaking work. But for this exercise you're going to have a list of a thousand names if you continue like this. You need to trust your guts. All of you. Work together, talk about who set off your RADAR on each of those cases and who didn't."

Silence and aggrieved faces greeted him so he continued, his palms up in a placating gesture. "Look, if you can all say hand on heart that every name on these lists is a possible Red John then, fine, we'll have to suck it up. But I can't believe there aren't some that you know are not. Go through the lists again. I'm betting that most likely, there will only be a few possibilities left when you do."

Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt looked to Lisbon for an answer. She nodded quickly. Begrudgingly, "Damn it. Okay. Jane might have a point."

* * *

 **A/N: Just a quick note to say that I've been so busy lately I haven't had a chance to catch up on reading almost every fic I'm currently following. I am hoping to rectify that very soon, please know I still intend to read and comment on all of them and you haven't lost me (I'm merely displaced right now lol). Thank you.**


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30 – Raising the Stakes

The team were ushered out by Lisbon just before midnight with her thanks and their promise to come back and continue the following day.

Jane was eyeing the amended lists as he stood over the coffee table, black lines scored through most of the names now, a cup of tea in his hand and his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"This is better," he said with a nod and a sip of tea. "Much more manageable."

"Yeah, assuming we haven't missed him," she replied dourly, carrying a tray of mugs into her kitchen.

"Have more faith in your abilities!" he called after her.

He brought his cup to the kitchen after draining it. "You're still mad at me," he stated, watching as she washed dishes with some vigour.

"No," she responded sharply and immediately.

He grinned and came up behind her, slid his arms around her waist from behind. "That's a shame." He kissed the side of her head and rocked her lightly from side to side. "Thought we could work the kinks out if you were."

She smiled despite herself. "You're an arrogant pain in the ass."

"Hm," he responded, kissing her earlobe then the side of her neck. "And you're much too defensive, sometimes." He nipped at her neck playfully.

"You just came in and crapped on the work we'd been doing all afternoon. On their days off, too. It wasn't exactly motivational."

"All the needless work," he argued, kissing her neck again. "You really think I wasn't motivational? No?" he mumbled, his hands snaking their way to her breasts as he continued kissing any exposed skin he could find. "I'll leave the motivation to you, then, shall I? Maybe you're better at that teambuilding stuff than I am." Gently, he grinded against her ass as he slid a hand under her T-shirt and caressed her torso. "Must agree you're good at it, you're motivating me right now...in all sorts of devilish ways."

She laughed and turned in his arms, his lips finding hers quickly and hungrily. When they drew apart she said breathlessly, "You don't need much motivation in that respect, you're like a dog on heat."

"Only around you, my dear," he replied, kissing her again.

She splashed him suddenly with soapy hands. "Cool down, boy."

He laughed and drew back from her, dried his face with his hands. "Sorry," he said softly as she dried her hands on a towel. "I didn't mean to belittle you all earlier if that's what you thought I was doing."

"Sure you did," she smiled. "But it's okay," she added with a shrug. "You're most probably right. We're so used to being careful and covering every possible angle we don't always act on instinct. Takes someone who isn't a cop to see that, I guess."

He grinned triumphantly and dived in for another kiss. As they deepened it she pulled back after a few moments. "Um...Patrick...this...this doesn't feel right."

His worried face made her add quickly, "No! I-I don't mean _this_." She pointed between the two of them. "I just mean...-"

"Feels wrong to have sex when Ryan is locked up right now," he finished for her with a sigh, taking a necessary step back.

She nodded. "I know that probably makes no sense to you considering we've broken up and what happened between me and you last night. But it just feels wrong to be I don't know...cavorting with you when it's my fault he's in this mess in the first place."

"Cavorting?" he smirked, raising an eyebrow. Then, serious again, "Okay. I understand. Although this isn't your fault. It's Red John's. You need to start believing that, Teresa. So...you want me to leave, come back tomorrow?"

"Um...I'd like you to stay, if-if you don't mind. I mean...if you wanted to, that is. That-that would be okay with me."

He pecked her lips quickly with a soft smile. "Be happy to."

* * *

"Can't see straight or think straight anymore," she muttered thirty minutes later as she added a name to a piece of paper. "I'm starting to doubt myself again – seeing Red John in everyone I ever met." She rubbed the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.

Jane was reading the files she'd already scrutinised as they sat on her couch, paying close attention to details pertaining to possible Red Johns. "Time to take a break, then," he replied, yawning. He closed the file she was reading in front of her as well as his own. "Come on, let's get you to bed, shall we? Start again in the morning."

She yawned and stretched her back, sore from sitting hunched over the coffee table. "Yeah, you're probably right."

She got off the couch and nodded to the bedroom with a frown when Jane didn't immediately follow her. "You coming?"

"You sure you'll be able to control yourself?" he said with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, I think I'll manage," she laughed.

He rolled his eyes theatrically as he got off the couch. "Damn."

* * *

His gaze was drawn to the black and white photograph on top of the dresser as soon as they made it to her bedroom, its tones muted sky blue and beige, functional oak furniture and cream carpet completing its look.

She followed his eye line and grabbed the silver frame, blushing brightly. "Sorry," she grimaced, clutching the photograph of Ryan and herself caught in a loving embrace to her chest, "I-I haven't really been back here since...well since everything changed. I totally forgot it was there."

Jane nodded as he pursed his lips, surveying the room some more as he bounced on his toes.

"Oh crap," she muttered, clearing away law textbooks from one side of the bed and a pair of reading glasses. Without making eye contact with Jane she threw them and the photograph into a drawer filled with a man's sweaters, closing it hard behind her.

"It's okay, Teresa," Jane smiled as he watched her scan the room hawk like for any further evidence of her ex-boyfriend. "I wasn't under the impression you've been a virgin all these years. Or months, come to that."

She shook her head as she finally looked at him. "Christ, what the hell is wrong with you?" she sighed with despondence. "This has to be the worst start to a relationship in the entire history of the world. First, all this conspiracy and Red John stuff...then this trouble with Ryan and now this...I'm sorry, Patrick. This is only our second night together and you've had all this to deal with, not exactly a romantic dinner for two, is it?"

He laughed softly. "I'm sure there have been worse starts. But you have a way of keeping things interesting, that's for sure." He approached her and kissed her gently, his hands on her hips. "But we're not starting, anyhow. We're just continuing where we left off. You've had enough on your mind past couple of days. There'll be plenty of time for dining out later on."

Ashamed, "I swear if I'd thought about it I would have moved his stuff out before I invited you to stay."

"It's fine, really."

He was aware his tone was becoming more clipped than comforting and he relaxed it. "But this has been fast for you, Teresa. This switch from one man to another. I can understand if you have some trepidation-"

"Not that fast," she admitted to him quietly. "Truth is I've thought of you a lot since you've come back. Thought of us...again. Just like you said." She glanced at the bed with some guilt and whispered, "Especially when perhaps I really shouldn't have."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh," he said simply, aware of feeling a strange mixture of pride and pain. He nodded quickly towards the wardrobe as he cleared his throat. "So, is there room in there for me to hang my clothes up or do you want me to go have another cup of tea before you...declutter some more?"

She bit down on her bottom lip.

Evenly, "Tea it is, then."

* * *

They lay in bed later, Lisbon dressed in a long nightshirt and Jane in his boxers, his arms wrapped around her and her head on his chest. Sleep was evading them both and they talked in hushed tones as the darkness curled around them. "I've been thinking you might be right about the Ferrari," he said.

"Oh...don't take any notice of what I said earlier, Patrick. I was in a bad mood. It's your car. And I was just-"

"Jealous. Yes, I know." His teeth glinted white.

She shifted uncomfortably. "Bit," she admitted, "maybe."

He caressed her scalp gently. "You know it's different with you," he stated soberly. "That I'd never hurt you like that."

She moved so she could see his face and the guilt that covered it. "Hey, I know it is." She kissed him slowly then smiled. "And you know I'd shoot you if you even considered it."

He laughed and kissed her back. "Look, Teresa, I-"

She put two fingers against his lips. "Not yet," she said urgently. "Please. While I'm sure this is what I want this past couple of days have been a blur. I'm not sure how much more I can handle of my life being turned upside down."

He kissed her fingers lightly and took them in his hand, exhaling slowly as he closed his eyes. He placed her hand in his against his chest. "All right, Miss Panic-stricken."

Before she could respond he added brightly, "I think it is time to retire the Ferrari, nevertheless. It doesn't really feel like me anymore. Makes me remember who I was this time a year ago and not who I want to be now. Those girls reminded me of that today. The only reason they even looked in my direction was because of the car."

"Hm, not so sure about that," Lisbon muttered, snuggling into his arms further.

He smiled at her subconscious possessiveness and tightened his grip as he planted a kiss on her head.

They fell silent for a moment, Lisbon bugged by something in his voice that made her question his motivation. "Just those girls today make you want to change your car?"

"What else?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

He refrained from mentioning Ryan's digs about his character – past and present. And as much as his opinion didn't matter to Jane it had made him take a look at his outward appearance and the type of man he might still appear to be. "Doesn't matter why. Does it? I've decided to change my car, that's all, no big deal."

"Okay," she said, deciding not to push his reasoning. "Cho will be disappointed," she added with a smile, patting his chest. "But whatever you think is right for you."

"I have a little Citroen DS21 in my collection I think would suit me better now. Nippy around town but more practical. Absolute classic." He grinned, "You're going to absolutely love it. I'm sure of it."

She rose her head quickly. "Wait, what?! You have a car collection?"

* * *

He found her back at the coffee table at five am, still in her nightshirt and scribbling on a notepad in front of her. The television was tuned into an all night local news channel, its sound muted.

She looked up at him, dressed in slacks and shirt sans shoes, his curls untamed. "Did I wake you?"

He yawned loudly. "Bed was cold," he replied, kissing her quickly before strolling to the kitchen to fill the kettle and start the coffee.

"Sorry, I woke up and then couldn't get back to sleep."

"Nothing on the news about this I take it?" he shouted back to her.

"No, thank god. Nothing yet."

"Well, that's something."

"Yeah."

"Any progress?" he asked as he brought their beverages back and sat down beside her, gesturing to her notepad.

"Got a couple more names you might be interested in. Speaking of which, what happens next? What's the next part of your plan? I thought I'd get the team to check the Red John murders against flight lists of any of the people we've identified, ascertain if we can maybe rule some people out. And as they're in law enforcement we can check duty logs, cases they were supposed to be working and where, etc."

"Sounds like a rational next step. Should cut our list down."

"What about after that? We'd be damn lucky to clear everyone but one by doing that."

"Agreed. Any left I'll question myself, assess their behaviour towards me. Red John knows who I am, he killed Melissa's murderer, after all. Hopefully, the man in question won't be able to hide that fact when we meet face to face."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I don't want you going near any of them-"

Gently, "Teresa, what's the point of having me as your secret weapon if you're not going to eventually use me? Huh?"

She shook her head. "I don't like it. It's...it's too close. Too risky."

"You know as well as I do we might have to take a few risks to catch him."

"Acceptable risks. Maybe. Not this."

Annoyed, "Acceptable meaning it's okay for you to take them but not me? Well, Teresa, that's not at all acceptable to me-"

"I'm a cop-"

Sharply, "You're mine too!"

He breathed deeply. "I-I didn't mean that in any type of misogynistic or territorial way. What I mean is that we belong to each other. Right?"

She nodded mutely.

"Then you can't be the only one allowed to take risks in this relationship. Frankly, I'd like neither of us to take them but there's no chance of talking you out of that so I'm not about to sit on the sidelines either. I won't. I can't."

"But what if he comes after you and I can't protect you? And what possible pretence would you even give to talk to them if I did agree?"

"Meh, don't worry about that. I'd think of something." Softly, "But that was why you wanted me to stay last night, wasn't it? Protect me?"

She flushed. "I'm terrified of something happening to you. Especially after Ryan..."

He kissed her gently. "I don't much like the thought of you being out of my sight much either right now. This is all too close for me too. Understand?"

She exhaled. "Yeah...yeah, of course, I do."

"So?"

"Okay, but let's shelve that idea for the moment. No talking to Red John suspects until we've exhausted every other lead first. Then we discuss it again."

"Fair enough."

Sensing she was still on edge he pushed her coffee cup closer to her right hand. She really was a bear in the mornings without it.

She glared at him. "I'm not irritated because I need caffeine." She took a long sip nonetheless. "I'm worried that, despite our conversation just now, you'll still do what you want without telling me first. I remember how you operated when I was your boss. You need to promise me you won't do that in this case, Patrick."

She swept the papers up on her desk before he had a chance to respond. "I won't have you involved at all if I think for a second that's your purpose at any stage."

Amused, "Eh...I have a memory palace. I already know all the names written there if your intention just now was to keep them from me."

"Damn it, Patrick!" Tears welled up in her eyes as she flung the papers back down again. "Ryan was bad enough going all lone ranger on me over this. And look what's happening to him right now! Promise me you won't go and do the same!"

He moved closer, put an arm around her. "Hey, hey, okay, okay. Don't have a heart attack on me, woman," he smiled, kissing her softly. "We'll do this together as we agreed. I won't do anything without your say so. I promise."

She sighed audibly and put her arms around him as he laid them back on the couch. "I'm a damn lunatic over this," she declared. "My nerves are shot."

"Hm," he chuckled, "would never have guessed." He kissed her forehead. "But you know I'm right, Teresa. You know there's a very good chance I'm going to have to meet him to help you. I can't read people in files. I need the face to face."

She nodded against his chest. "Maybe. We'll see. But what if you can't even if we decide that? He's a sociopath - he's not going to be easy to read, Patrick."

"I know that. But you might have to allow me to give it a shot if we reach a dead end. You need to accept that."

"We try everything else first."

Silence descended as they uncurled from each other and resumed sipping their hot drinks.

As Lisbon began reading a case file Jane picked up the remote control for the television and turned up the sound suddenly. She frowned at the noise until she saw the report on screen, the chiselled features of a news anchorman in his fifties reading from an autocue staring back at her, a photograph of a red smiley face to the far left of the screen.

 _A source inside the California Bureau of Investigation has informed us of some breaking news in the renowned Red John serial killer case. It has been reported that a man in his early thirties has been detained as a person of interest after forensic evidence placed him at the scene of the serial killer's latest victim just days ago of Laura Cole, 20, another young woman brutally murdered as she slept at the hands of this gruesome sadistic killer._

 _Our source has reported that the man in question - bizarrely - has a close personal relationship to one of the lead detectives in charge of this long unsolved case. We have asked for a comment from the CBI on these startling developments and will bring that to you as soon as we have it._

 _As I'm sure our viewers are already aware Red John has plagued California..._

Jane turned the sound off again silently as the man on the screen began to give a rundown of Red John's murderous past.

"Oh, crap." Lisbon screwed up her face, staring at the screen.

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Jane said, shaking his head.

"It's not just Ryan he's going after with this, is it? He's looking at ruining my reputation, too. My life."

"Certainly looks that way or why else would the mole at the CBI who leaked this mention your relationship with Ryan specifically? It'll punish Minelli too - he was the one who promoted you."

"Makes it look like we're both imbeciles for not seeing what was in front of our faces if somehow Ryan is actually charged. Me for not realising I was dating Red John and Minelli for promoting a cop to be in charge of the case who didn't realise. Or, worse than that...like I knew somehow it was him and helped cover it up. Who knows what bullshit is coming next?

"And even if Ryan isn't arrested there will still be suspicion and rumours. The higher ups will throw us to the wolves if it's easier for them than ride this out in the press."

"One or more of them could form part of this conspiracy. Nice way of eliminating you both without any blood being shed."

She nodded. "Only a matter of time before the press have our names. And then god help us all."

Lisbon's phone trilled on the table. She picked it up and saw Minelli's name flash on the screen. "At least it's not a reporter," she shrugged.

"Not yet," Jane offered her glumly.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N:** **Thank you so much for your patience and I apologise for the lengthy wait for this update while I completed my recent mini multichapter Closed Doors. And thanks to everyone who has reviewed lately both that short fic and the recent Broken update, please know that I appreciate every single one and that your words of encouragement inspire me to continue with this little hobby more than you know. I very much doubt I'd still be dabbling here without them.**

* * *

Chapter 31 – Pressing Matters

"I want to know who leaked this and nail their ass to the cross, Brenda!" Minelli yelled as he bore down on Brenda Shettrick as they stood face to face in his office.

Shettrick matched her superior's red face and stammered a response, "Uh...well...I...I have no idea-"

"Are we clear?" Minelli continued. He pointed a finger at her. "It's your job to deal with the press. So find out who this so-called 'source' is immediately!"

The head of Media Relations took a breath. "I've already called the television station, sir. They won't say who informed them and have said that they will protect their source."

Minelli grabbed a bottle of headache pills from his desk and took one, slamming the bottle back down on the desk again. He drank from a coffee cup and grimaced as the cold dregs hit the back of his throat. His tone turned softer but still menacing as he punctuated every word with a pause. "I...don't...care...how...you...find...out. Just see that you do! Alright!"

She straightened her shoulders as her voice quivered. "And if I can't?"

He rolled his eyes and sat back down on his chair with a long sigh. Calmly, "Do what you can so that doesn't happen. Be creative and think on your feet. You have the contacts you need, use them."

"I'll do my best."

"Okay," he exhaled.

As he shuffled some papers on his desk to signify the meeting was over he looked up again when she didn't move. "Something else?"

"Press want a statement. We both know Lisbon's name will be picked up soon enough once her boyfriend is charged. One reporter has already called me and asked me flat out if Lisbon is involved with a serial killer. Their relationship is widely known both within these walls and in the DA's office. It's the first of many such calls. So perhaps we should get out ahead of it before-"

"Firstly, he hasn't been charged. Not yet, anyway. And secondly, we confirm nothing about any of our agents' theoretical or actual involvement with open cases. Our agents' personal lives are precisely that. Clear?"

"Sir, if you don't mind me saying that's incredibly naive. We both know how this will actually play out."

He rubbed his temple and exhaled loudly as he picked up the lighter on his desk and fidgeted with it.

Shettrick continued, "From what I understand it's only a matter of time before Ryan Hastings is charged." Sympathetically, "Look, sir, I understand this is close to home for you. That you have been a mentor for Lisbon for many years but perhaps we need to look at the bigger picture as far as the Bureau is concerned-"

He addressed her with a look of steel. "We do not throw our people under the bus, Brenda, if that is where you are taking this conversation. Lisbon has done nothing wrong."

Shettrick's voice picked up with determination. "With all due respect if she has been romantically involved with Red John for years then I beg to differ. Either she's incredibly stupid or else she is the reason he hasn't been brought to justice until now."

Minelli rose from his chair in anger as she continued to raise her voice. " _Those_ are the types of questions that will be asked, sir."

"And _your_ job to ensure unsubstantiated rumours and tittle tattle are quashed." He huffed loudly before he composed himself as he took his seat again. "If you think it would help school Lisbon on any press she may have coming her way then feel free to do so. By the way, who was the reporter who asked about her specifically?"

"Karen Cross. She has a talk show-"

He rolled her eyes. Briskly, "Yes, I'm well aware of Ms Cross and her questionable reputation with regards to Reporting."

"She states she'll lead with this story on her next show with or without a statement from us."

"Oh, she does, does she? Well, please let her know that we're not afraid to sue or arrest her ass over any misinformation televised. When is it due to broadcast?"

"It's recorded in three days time and broadcast later that evening."

An annoyed grunt was the response.

"Is that all, then, sir? That for now, I say that we have no comment on any active investigation? The standard esponse and nothing more? Yes?"

"Yes." He muttered under his breath, "And god help us this nightmare will all be over soon."

As Shettrick withdrew with a curt nod she turned at the door. "You realise that kind of blanket statement will only hold until Hastings' arrest. After that, it won't only be Lisbon who may have to worry about the possible ramifications this may have for herself or the Bureau. Especially if it is seen that she has been protected in any way."

"That is all, Brenda," Minelli muttered with a wave of his hand as he pretended to study a report on his desk, his thoughts on both his own and Lisbon's future tenure.

* * *

Jane fixed his hair in Lisbon's bedroom mirror as she dressed in dark blue jeans and an emerald blouse as she spoke, glancing at her phone. "Urgh, Brenda Shettrick wants to talk to me as soon as I get in tomorrow. Just got a text message. And she wrote in capitals that I talk to NO PRESS. Does she really think I'm that much of an idiot?"

"Can't be unexpected Media Relations would want to school you. Even if it is unnecessary."

"No, it isn't but...urgh...that woman annoys me."

"Hm. Be careful with her. I don't trust her."

She squeezed past him to retrieve her watch from the dresser. "You don't trust anyone."

"I trust you. Your team." He shrugged as he thought. "Couple of others. That's more than enough."

"What is it about Brenda, in particular, you don't trust?"

"Ah...well, that's easy. To start with, she's a failed writer. She knows the fundamentals and has excellent grammar, I'm sure, but she lacks the imagination and the flair. She's romantic but she never found anyone who could love her back. She's loved but it's been unrequited. So she turned to power instead, attempting to get from that what she couldn't find in her personal life. Something to fuel her need to feel wanted. Something that would give her the same thrill as being in love. She fell under its spell and now _that_ love consumes her, the constant desire to be at the top table in any political function or situation. She wants to be seen as a player in Sacramento society, a person of substance. Not the sad lonely figure she actually is. So, she's dangerous.

"So, she's dangerous. She'll screw anyone over if it gives her a step up the greasy pole."

Jane buttoned up his vest as he turned from the mirror to see Lisbon staring at him with an open mouth. "How...how many times have you met her to know all of that?"

He kissed her quickly with a grin. "Twice. But I didn't really require the second meeting."

"That's..."

"Amazing?" He grinned again.

She smiled in disbelief then recovered. "Well, if any of what you actually said is true it is. But you might have just been talking out of your ass."

He chuckled. "Oh ye of little faith."

As she put on her leather jacket his tone changed. Serious again, "Uh...do you know Ryan's parents?"

She frowned, "Yeah. Um...not that well but I've met them a few times, sure."

He pursed his lips. "I think you need to call them. Give them the heads up."

"But-but this could all get cleared up today. He could be released. Why worry them unduly?"

"And he may not be. I don't like the direction this is going and neither do you. You have Shettrick to deflect press away from you. For now, anyway. They don't have that buffer."

She nodded slowly. "You're right. I didn't even think...oh god, how the hell do I tell them about all this?"

"Better getting the real truth coming from you than a two-bit reporter harassing them on their front lawn and asking them how they feel about bringing a serial killer into the world."

She closed her eyes briefly as a shiver ran up her spine. "I'll call them now."

He pecked her lips. "I'll leave you to it. Better get to the office and see what Haffner has in store for me today."

"You'll let me know-"

"If there are any further developments, of course."

She kissed him. Sincerely, "Thank you. Really. I know this isn't what you signed up for."

He put his arms around her. "I signed up for you. And who'd want a boring romance where we spend our time making out and drinking margaritas for weeks on end, anyway, eh?"

She grinned. "Put a pin in that for when this is all over."

His eyes twinkled at her. "Consider it done."

* * *

"Jane, there you are!" Haffner bounded across the bullpen as Jane arrived.

"Ray, I take it there's been some kind of progress." He feigned neutrality in his tone as he glanced around the office, Haffner's agents in varying degrees of palpable excitement and busyness.

"You betcha!" Haffner grinned. "Forensics just retrieved more results from the Cole crime scene. Traces of skin found under her right index fingernail match Hastings' DNA." He patted Jane on the back. "It's a slam dunk. Warrant's being drawn up as we speak."

"What about the other Red John murders?" Jane pressed.

"Oh, yeah, that. Well, he has no alibis for any of them, apparently. Stroke of luck, huh? Thought Red John would have been more savvy even to have faked a few just for back up, just in case. But guess he was arrogant enough to think he'd never be caught."

"He has no one to vouch for him for any of the previous murders?"

He shrugged. "Nope. He said he was alone on every date we asked him about and talked to no one on those nights."

Jane furrowed his brow. He knew for a fact that at least one Red John murder had been committed while Lisbon and Ryan dated. His wife's killer lying butchered lay before him as vividly in his mind as the night he'd seen it. Lisbon had spent all night at the crime scene as he had. What he wasn't certain of was whether she'd called Ryan that night or at any time before the body had been discovered. If she had then a simple phone trace might exclude him quickly. Ryan was smart enough to know that too. He could have bought more time by having phone logs requested at the very least. Why was he suddenly in a hurry to implicate himself?

"I need to talk to Hastings again," Jane said, walking away from Haffner quickly.

"Jane! Don't screw up this arrest!" Haffner called after him.

* * *

Jane entered the holding cell carrying a cup of coffee and a tea. He sat down opposite Ryan and pushed the coffee towards him. "It tastes of tar but it's best I could do. If it helps the tea isn't much better."

Ryan pulled his handcuffed hands around the plastic beaker and took a large grateful sip. After a night in the cells, he no longer looked like the suave lawyer Jane had once met. Unkempt hair and two days' worth of stubble matched the rumpled suit jacket that had served as a pillow during the night.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Jane began. "Why aren't you helping yourself out of this?"

Ryan frowned as he placed the cup on the table. "Excuse me?"

"Are you really telling me that you received and made no phone calls during any of the Red John murders? That you had no company on any of those nights? You expect me to believe that?"

"Your boss believes me, why don't you?"

"Haffner is so greedy for an arrest he can't think straight. Man's practically drooling. And why would he look anywhere else when you're so willing to be the sacrificial lamb? Plus, he doesn't know you-"

"Neither do you."

"No. But Teresa does. And she says you're not Red John. And I believe _her_."

Ryan shrugged. "As far as I recall I didn't talk to anyone on any of those nights. It sucks but I can't help that."

Jane narrowed his eyes at the other man. "I don't believe you. You just lied to me."

Ryan licked his lips and Jane pounced on the tell immediately. "Aha! I'm right. You have alibis. For one or more of the murders. So why are you keeping them to yourself?"

He sat back in his chair again and studied Ryan closely. "Is it because you were having an affair of some kind? Is that it?-"

Ryan laughed disdainfully. "I'm not the man in this room who has trouble being faithful to one woman, Patrick. Don't judge everyone against your own shoddy standards."

Jane leant forward again. "Cut the bull, Ryan. You can assassinate my character all you want. Because I don't _care_ what you think of me as I've said before. Understand? But this is hurting, Teresa." He nodded towards the door. "You want to know what's going on out there? She's about to be either fired or arrested, that's what. Because of you and your selfishness!"

"What?!"

"You heard me. What did you think would happen, huh? Oh yes, you thought justice would prevail and your good name would be restored. Well, let me break this to you. Justice is right now offering you up to the death penalty gods all wrapped up in a neat little bow."

Ryan shook his head. "What-what do you mean Teresa might be arrested?"

Jane rolled his eyes. "Are you in idiot? Once you're charged it's open season on her. She's the lead agent in charge of the Red John case. And what do you know? She's had over a two-year relationship with the man she's supposed to have arrested?! How does that look?"

Wildly, "No...no...they said-" Ryan slammed his mouth shut abruptly.

"Who? Who said what?!" Jane nodded slowly. "So that's what it is? You're trying to protect her, is that it? Someone threatened you-"

Ryan swallowed thickly. "They threatened _her_ , not me!" He took a deep breath. "They said if I took the fall then she would be okay. That-that they'd leave her alone."

"Because of what she's been doing? They know about her investigation?"

"They didn't say. But-but I assume so."

"Who was it? Who did you speak to?"

The dark haired man shook his head. "I'm not saying, Patrick. Do whatever the hell you like to me but I'm not telling you."

"They lied to you, don't you see that now? You need to come clean and stop being a fool."

"She's still alive, isn't she? Now you need to convince her to distance herself from me. That'll save her from the worst of the fallout. She might still lose her job but it's better than the alternative."

Jane scoffed. "Are you kidding? She'll never agree to disowning you like that!"

"If it's the only way she'll be safe from prosecution or worse then you need to convince her to do it. You can persuade anyone to do anything and you know it."

Sourly, "Apart from you telling me who threatened her, it appears."

Firmly, "Safer that way."

Jane rubbed two hands over his face. Wearily, "For Chrissakes let me help you out of this. Stop being so damn stubborn. Don't make me have to hypnotise you."

He stared at Ryan again suddenly, renewed urgency in his tone. "This must have occurred yesterday after I saw you. You weren't so keen on taking the fall then. You thought it was inevitable you would, you felt sorry for yourself but only because you didn't see a way out. But, thinking on things with a clearer head, you realise you _can_ alibi yourself for at least some of the murders. You _can_ cast doubt on the forensic evidence. You simply will not."

When Ryan didn't respond Jane continued, "I can easily find out who you talked to after I left the room-"

"Please, Patrick-"

"No. Either tell me or I'll find out for myself. Your choice."

When he saw Ryan battle internally Jane added darkly, "You say you believe in the justice system. Yet you're willing to take your place on death row instead of a man who belongs there. He'll kill again and you know it. And when he does it _will_ be your fault whether you're alive or dead. And it might well be Teresa. And if not her then another innocent woman. No man who believes in justice can have that on their conscience."

Softly, "You need to trust someone, Ryan."

"And that person should be you?"

"I don't see anyone else trying to save your ass right now, do you? You'll have to make do. And you know it's the only move you have left. To save both yourself and Teresa. Otherwise, Red John wins. It's time to fight back."

Ryan closed his eyes and slumped back in his chair. "Okay, okay. I'll tell you who it was. But I swear if something happens to Teresa-"

"I'll make sure it doesn't. Now spill."

* * *

As the team assembled around Lisbon's living room she passed a handwritten list of names to each of them. "Okay, this is what we've come up with so far. And while I'd like to go on and check every case we've worked we need to make a start. This is time critical. More than ever now. So we begin with what we have so far."

As they each read their list of names, Cho asked, "What do you want us to do?"

Lisbon nodded to Van Pelt. "Did you bring what you needed?"

"Yes, boss. I just need to install software on the secure laptops we brought with us. They can't be traced to us individually and the software will cover all trace of any searches we make in the CBI or any other database, come to that. We'll be like ghosts in the system, effectively. If we're reading information only and not making changes our presence will be invisible."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow. "I don't much like the thought of that. When this is over we need to discuss how we can close that loophole for anyone else to do the same."

Van Pelt smiled. "Sure thing, boss. There are a couple of programs I've wanted to try out-"

"All right," Lisbon interrupted, addressing the team again. "You each have your own list of names. I want you to match each of them against the Red John murder victims' crime scenes and times of death. Check geographically first. If it's physically possible for them to have made it to a victim's house from their last appearance at one of their own crime scenes. Include time to get changed and cleaned up. Check holiday rosters. Were they out of the country? The state? Can we confirm that with credit card spending where they were and when? Check any social media postings around the time of the murders. Were they online?-"

"Basically we rule out by any means necessary," Cho interjected.

"Yes. And don't forget the reverse, too. We rule _in_ , as well. One appearance near a Red John crime scene at the approximate time of a victim's death is one anomaly. But if we can pin them down to three or four of them then we may just have something more substantial to go on."

She looked at each of them in turn. Sincerely, "Thank you for this. As you realise this is not exactly by the books detective work and this is on your own time so I do appreciate all your help."

"Sure thing, boss," Rigsby replied. "Don't worry. We got this."

She smiled softly then straightened her shoulders. "Okay, then let's get to work."


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: Finally an update for this story. You may need to read back a chapter or two if you wish to remind yourself were it was left, I know it's been a while. It's in the final stretch now, though, so thank you to anyone who is still reading this one. Hoping to wrap it up in the next couple of weeks and then get started on my sequel to Deception.**

* * *

Chapter 32 – Death & Acceptance

 **Four days later.**

Dressed in black Lisbon carried the white rose to the coffin just in front of her and with her head bowed she tossed it gently onto the smooth dark oak.

Moments later dirt was shovelled on top as the sparse gathering of funeral goers loitered at the gravesite.

Ryan Hastings' parents held each other as his mother cried against her husband's dark suit jacket.

Jane took a step forward and placed his hand on Lisbon's lower back to stop her taking a commanding pace towards them. "Don't," he said in her ear as she watched the bereft couple.

She shivered at the instigation of his touch. "Patrick," she whispered, shaking her head. "I can't-"

"Yes, you can. You must," he told her firmly before he stepped away again as quietly as he'd arrived.

"Oh, Teresa," Jennifer Hastings sighed a few seconds later as she turned towards Lisbon, tears streaming down her face. "How could this have happened?"

"I know, Jennifer. I know. He-he was a good man. He wasn't the monster they say he was. And this proves it."

The older woman nodded quickly with a loud sniffle. "And you're going to clear his name for good, aren't you?" She took Lisbon's hands in both of hers. Emotionally, "Tell me you're going to do that. Please." She stared at the coffin. "He's not here anymore to fight against these awful accusations himself. He needs your help to get some justice now. We all do."

Lisbon gripped her hands tightly. "I will clear his name. I promise you that," she confirmed fiercely.

* * *

Lisbon caught up with Jane a few minutes later, his back leaning against the door of his Citroen as he watched the mourners disperse.

"I keep looking for your Ferrari," she admitted.

"You like this better? I'd forgotten how fun it was to drive."

She assessed the car. Nonchalantly, "This contraption? Looks like a death trap if you ask me."

He patted his car affectionately. "Don't worry, baby, she doesn't mean it. She's just grumpy being out in the sun all dressed in black. And having to wear a dress."

She nodded behind her. "Well?"

"Well what?"

She glared at him. "Patrick, don't play with me. I am _so_ not in the mood for it today."

"You don't like the whole grieving girlfriend image? You're doing an admirable job. Strong. Resolute."

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this charade never mind have people believe Ryan and I were still together when he..." Her voice dipped like she was in a confessional, "...died."

"No one but you and I knew you and he had broken up. Well, apart from him, of course. Plays better to a crowd to have you in the front pew wringing your hands in despair."

She shook her head. "Talking of that...his parents...they're never going to forgive me for not telling them the truth about this. And Stan and Karen keep calling me and asking me to stay with them. I can hardly look any of them in the eye. They're going to be pissed when they find out his death was fabricated and that I knew about it and was a part of it."

"Better lying to them now than him actually being dead, isn't it? We needed the grief of his parents and the concern of your family to sell it."

Even though there was no one around them she whispered, "Is Ryan okay?"

"Safe and sound," he smiled. He nodded towards the gravesite. "Anyway, our play worked. Shettrick is in attendance, I see. Red John's spy sent to get intel to make sure everything is on the level."

"I wanted to slap that bitch when you told me she was working for Red John and had spoken to Ryan. I still do."

"I'm sure you'll have time for that once we get what we need from her."

"Still think the direct approach might have worked better. Both on her and that worm Partridge."

"Torture? Sure. Nice way to express your anger. But she's indoctrinated into his cult...or whatever you want to call it. All you'd accomplish is her telling you what she's been trained to tell you. And the result would most likely have been her death before you may have got any relevant information out of her. Better this way. Make her feel comfortable that she's in the clear as far as Ryan blowing the whistle on her is concerned. And make Red John suspicious to see who moved on him without his explicit say so. Causes some disruption within his ranks which can only be a good thing. I saw Partridge yesterday. He's jumpy already. We've had this discussion, Teresa."

Distracted, "Yeah, yeah, I know."

He fought against taking her hand. While they were in public they couldn't show any affection towards each other than as co-workers and, with her role as girlfriend in grieving, had hardly seen each other since Ryan's 'murder'. "I know you weren't comfortable with the whole fake death scenario. But there wasn't much time. He was going to be charged that night, moved to County and that scenario would have meant his actual death in most likelihood."

"What I wasn't comfortable with was it was all happening before we even had a discussion about it!"

"Things were moving fast that day. I had to act quickly once he told me about Shettrick."

A glimmer of a smile passed her lips. "I'd loved to have been in the same room as you both when you told him you were going to kill him."

"He was worried briefly, yes," he replied with a small smile as he looked to the ground. "Lucky you were able to contact Pat to help find us a John Doe to bury. And to pronounce Ryan's death at the CBI."

"Yeah, fortunate she was in the building just at that particular moment, huh?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Lucky indeed," he said with a knowing smile.

Silence lapsed for a few seconds. "A squash ball...still can't believe that worked."

He nodded, "A handy trick to know when you and your father are being run out of town. Collapsing dead suddenly provokes a certain amount of shock in the person holding a gun to your head and negates the need for the bullet heading your way."

Her eyes widened. "You never told me that's where you learned that trick."

"Hm. Useful, eh?"

"And the 'poison' you gave him to smear on his hand? What was what? I forgot to ask."

"You know that green slime that kids play with?"

"Oh, yeah, Stan's kids play with that disgusting stuff."

He rocked on his heels peacock style. "Pretty ingenious even if I do say so myself."

"It did keep everyone else away from the body and stop them looking at it too closely before he could be transported to the Morgue."

"Apart from Pat who was in on the plan."

"Now what?" she asked. "We don't have that much time before Professional Standards investigate. It won't take long for holes to appear in your story or Pat's. The guy in charge, LaRoche, he's a pitbull, believe me."

"All being well we'll have enough time. It'll take him a few weeks to launch a lengthy investigation, blessed petty bureaucracy being as it is the wheels move slowly. So, for now we wait. You tracking Partridge's and Shettrick's phones?"

"Yep. Wholly illegal but we're doing it."

"Any hits yet on them being in the same place at the same time?"

"I'd have mentioned it if there were."

"Of course. Anyway, only a matter of time before Red John calls them in for a face to face update. He'll want to look them in the eye so he can ascertain their loyalty and decide if one or both of them screwed up. Chances are if they're both in the same place for any length of time together then that's where Red John is located. Gives us a better idea of where his base is. Then we go to your list of possible Red Johns and...well, et voila."

"You're awfully sure of that part. And it seems much too risky for him to call his people in after this."

"He likes the risk. He breaks into women's homes and mutilates them. He doesn't kidnap them or take them to a locale he has absolute control over before he kills them. He does it in _their_ homes. He enjoys the thrill of it, that adrenalin rush that accompanies his kills. Like two people in an illicit love affair, if you will.

"Plus, people with an over inflated sense of ego don't believe they can be wrong. Ever. He's been the puppet master for so long he believes nothing can hurt him and that he can never be caught. He believes his own hype. That's how we'll catch him."

"Hm. He's had good reason to be confident. And you're too convinced about this plan, I don't like it. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Trust me. This will work."

She puffed out a breath of discontent. "I hate the waiting part. I'd rather be doing _something_ than waiting on him to make the next move."

"I know. How's the press attention on you?"

"Since Ryan wasn't actually charged they don't have a story with me currently. Or him, really. It's all supposition as the CBI won't comment on his death. Every day the papers have less to report. The higher ups are afraid his parents will sue or go to the press with their own story about their son being murdered while in CBI custody, suspicion of him being Red John or not. And how he was _murdered_ makes that less and less of a possibility, obviously. So that's something, I guess. Although it harms the reputation of the CBI."

"The CBI is infected with a virus, Teresa. You know that already. Before we get to the bottom of this there are going to be casualties. This is only the first strike."

She sighed loudly. "Yeah, I know. We have to get the bad apples out before we can rebuild. If there's anything worth rebuilding depending on how far this goes."

"Try to stay positive."

"Yeah, I'm so good at that," she responded with a raised eyebrow.

He chuckled softly. "Anything else on your mind before I go check on our ward and let you get back to your mourning?"

"Karen Cross has called me twice for a statement. She's definitely not done with this. She left a message saying she's delaying the Red John story in her weekly broadcast but only because she wants to do some more investigating first." She rolled her eyes. "Investigating, right," she scoffed.

"Maybe we can use her in the future," he replied, patting an index finger to his lips.

"How so?"

He shrugged. "She's a hungry journalist. Of sorts. We could feed her whatever story we want. She'd eat it up with a spoon."

"What story?"

"Don't know. Haven't decided yet," he smiled.

She shook her head. "You love this stuff, don't you? All this...deviousness?"

He chanced a grin.

* * *

Jane stretched as he exited his vehicle, rolled his shoulders as he removed his jacket from the back seat of his car and picked up the bag of groceries that sat beside it.

Caked dirt was kicked up as he made his way to the array of airstreams and caravans parked in Carson Springs.

"Hey, Pete," he smiled when he saw the large man in the middle of the pack of vehicles, his hands at work on repairing a bumper car.

"Patrick, I hope you brought dinner," the moustached man replied.

Jane held up the brown paper bag. "Finest steaks I could find," he grinned.

"Now we're talking," Pete responded, getting to his feet and hugging his friend.

"How's your lodger settling in?" Jane asked, nodding to a caravan a few feet away.

Pete laughed. "Somewhat of a culture shock. But he's doing what he's asked chore wise. He's not good at any of them but he tries."

Jane chuckled. "I appreciate you taking him in."

"He really your girlfriend's ex?"

"Crazy world, eh?" Jane said as he handed the groceries to Pete. "Here, give these to Pat, will you? I'll go check on him and join you both later."

* * *

Jane tapped on the white caravan's door. "You decent?" he called out as he opened it.

"Patrick," Ryan said, closing the book in front of him.

"Hey, you doing okay?"

Ryan scoffed, "For a dead man, I guess I am. How was my funeral?"

"Not much of a turnout, I'm afraid."

"Well, when word around the D.A.'s office was I might have been Red John I wouldn't imagine I'd have many friends left there." Worried, "My parents?"

"Ah...they'll be okay once they know you're alive."

"I was thinking about that-"

"No. It's too soon to tell them the truth. They'd only want to see you for themselves and the fewer people know you're here and still in the land of the living the better. And they'd only act differently even if they tried not to. It's safer for them to keep their distance."

Ryan got up from his seat. "Yeah. I suppose."

As Jane watched him pace restlessly in the small space he said, "Look, it's not going to be forever. Hang in there, all right? Just think how happy they'll be when they discover you're alive."

Ryan ran a hand through his dark hair. "Yeah," he sighed.

"Come round to Pete and Sam's for dinner." As Jane made to leave Ryan asked him quietly, "Is she okay?"

"Yeah," Jane responded brightly, "she's fine."

He stopped at the door handle. "She's worried about you but she's fine."

* * *

On the way back to Sam and Pete's Jane caught sight of Daisy the elephant and took a detour to see her. He'd fed her a few apples before he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Still feeding her apples, huh?"

He turned quickly and his smile was brighter than the sun. "What are you doing here?" he asked Lisbon. "I thought we agreed it was better we kept our distance."

She took a step closer. "In Sacramento, yes. But-"

Without another word he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When they parted he looked around their surroundings. "It's not a carnival per se but it's almost full circle, eh?"

"Definite déjà vu," she smiled, patting Daisy's trunk. "Think I can remember how to do this..."

She fed the elephant an apple and grinned. Then she removed a dollar from her pocket. "A dollar to feed her, right?"

"Well, I'm glad someone remembered the rules around here," a booming voice said behind them. Pete grinned at Jane and Lisbon. "Jeez, what a way to make someone feel old looking at you two now all grown up."

Lisbon blushed, "You-you remember me?"

"Hardly likely to forget the one girl this one was crazy over," he grinned, his frame crushing Lisbon's as he embraced her.

"Hey, take it easy, Pete," Jane chuckled.

Pete looked Lisbon over fully. "Even if she did turn into a cop."

"Yeah, sorry about that," she smiled.

"Yeah, well, nobody's perfect. Dinner's in ten. You look like you need feeding up, there's nothing to you, woman. Come on over when you're ready."

As he walked away again Lisbon tilted her chin defiantly. "Crazy over me, huh?"

"He likes to exaggerate," Jane blushed. He kissed her softly. "This is a nice surprise. Ready to eat?"

"Um, sure but..."

"Oh." He'd been so happy to see her he'd almost forgotten he wasn't the only person she'd have wanted to check up on. "Of course."

Flustered, "It's-it's just that I haven't seen him since all this started."

"No. No. Sorry. My bad." Cheerfully, "Come on, I'll show you where he is."

She placed a hand on his arm. "I just want to make sure he's okay. It's not...I mean I'm not..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he replied, a little less forced cheeriness in his tone.

* * *

After knocking on the door to the caravan to no response she opened the door cautiously. She called out, "Ryan?"

The door to the bathroom opened and Ryan emerged in a towel that covered his lower half. "Hey," he smiled, "Patrick didn't say you were coming too."

"He didn't know."

She smiled in relief and took a couple of steps forward. Unsure of how to define their relationship and the boundaries between them now she hugged him loosely. Red crept up her neck. "Uh, good to see you alive."

He chuckled and nodded for her to take a seat as he sat opposite her. "Just making sure I actually was?"

"It was so weird the last few days. People pitying me and me trying to act grief stricken. I'll be glad when we can get you out of here and I can drop the act."

"Yeah, I remember you told me once you hated undercover work. You're too honest for it."

After a couple of seconds of silence he sighed, "You were right. I should have run when you suggested it. I was too stubborn."

"And you were mad at me so wouldn't listen."

He half shrugged. "I was."

"I don't blame you for that. But I do blame you for not listening when I tried to warn you. But that's over now. You're safe and that's all that matters. And when this is all over I want to kick your ass for trying to protect me by pretending you were Red John."

"I'd do it again."

"Then you're twice the fool," she glared.

He laughed softly then looked out the window to his side. "I might have been wrong about Patrick too," he said quietly. "I'd never have made it out of there without his help. He's a smart son of a bitch. Crazy. But smart."

She smiled, "That should be his epitaph."

He looked at her again. "You two doing okay?"

Flustered, "Ryan-"

"Hey, it's not a dig. I get what you see in him. He's a hell of a lot more dynamic than I am. Or ever will be. I'm happy for you both. Sincerely." He bit the inside of his cheek. "Okay, let me amend that, I'm not _that_ happy for you. But I'm trying to be."

She touched his hand. "That's good enough. Thank you. You know I'd hate to lose your friendship."

A rap came to the door and Jane popped his head in. He blinked quickly when he assessed the situation - his girlfriend with her hand on her ex-boyfriend's hand and him wearing nothing but a towel.

Lisbon withdrew her hand quickly. "Hey," she squeaked.

"Hey, yourself," he replied calmly. "Just to let you both know dinner's ready." He glanced at Ryan. Coolly, "You might want to put some pants on first."

* * *

She caught up with Jane outside a few seconds later. "You know that was nothing, right?"

"Of course," he smiled. "It was just you and your ex sharing what appeared to be an intimate moment when he's almost naked. Why would I be concerned about that? Perfectly normal behaviour."

"Patrick." She caught his arm.

He cleared his throat. "Look, I _know_ it wasn't anything. It's just..."

She smiled faintly. "You were jealous."

"I don't get jealous," he shot back with some petulance.

"Good," she grinned. "So then what was it?"

He bit his lip and rocked on his toes. "Let's change the subject. Come on, let's grab dinner. Some busy days ahead."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him in for a quick kiss. "Just to put your mind at rest in case you were just the tiniest bit jealous."


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33 – Red Bluff

Lisbon rolled her shoulders after her quick shower and dried her hair roughly with a towel. Unsurprisingly it had done little to ease her tension. She grabbed some underwear, sweat pants and a T-shirt from a bedroom drawer and set about getting dressed. It was almost ten pm and her journey back alone from Carson Springs had been boring, hot and tedious with only her thoughts for company. Jane had opted to stay a while longer to enjoy the company of his old friends. They had also agreed it was better for both of them not to travel the same route at the same time even if they were in separate vehicles. It had been risky for her to venture to the Carnie winter hang out in the first place, after all.

As she'd travelled back and darkness had crept in she'd sensed she was being followed such was her current heightened feeling of suspicion of everything around her. Then the car she had been watching suddenly veered off the highway, allowing her to finally exhale sharply. She was becoming increasingly paranoid and even now in the safety of her own apartment her skin still itched with fearful anticipation. She grabbed some body lotion and applied it generously, hoping it would salve the dread she couldn't shake.

The end was coming soon, could feel it in her bones that Red John would make a move soon. Either on her or on someone she cared about. She just had to keep hoping that she and Jane would have time to strike first.

As she placed the bottle back on her nightstand a knock at her door startled her. Glancing at the late hour she frowned and picked up her Glock that was now positioned never more than a foot away from her.

Gun behind her back she approached the door quietly barefoot and peeked through the peephole. Ray Haffner stood there, a tight expression on his face as he looked from side to side.

She licked her lips and moved to the wall at the side of the door. How did he even know where she lived?

"Teresa?" he called through the door, knocking again.

She'd known him for years. There was no way he could be involved in Red John's deeds, could there?

* * *

"Something to keep you warm for the drive back," Pete said, shoving a glass of clear liquid into Jane's hands as he took a seat beside him at the small campfire set in the middle of the ragtag array of vehicles.

Jane eyed the drink suspiciously. "Moonshine?" He set it on the ground beside him. "Best not or I might not make it back at all," he chuckled.

Pete took a small swig and grimaced. "Smooth."

Both men enjoyed the warmth of the fire for a few seconds until the older man spoke again. "So, this is quite a mess you've got yourself involved in."

"What else is new?" Jane quipped.

Pete laughed. "Yeah. True enough. But this is far more dangerous than any cons you've worked before by the sound of it."

"I'll be fine," Jane responded assuredly.

"Don't forget the most important rule in working a con, boy wonder."

"Don't get overconfident. I remember."

"Hm. You haven't always. And this isn't a game, Patrick. This one involves people's lives too, it's not looking for ways to make a quick buck."

"You think I've made a miscalculation?"

"Do you?"

Jane's brow furrowed in thought. "Only time will tell."

* * *

"That's mine," Cho commanded without looking up from his file as Rigsby's gaze travelled to the wrapped sandwich in the fridge.

"You could have got me one too on your way here," the tall agent replied petulantly.

Cho raised an eyebrow in silence as Rigsby came to stand with his back to him and surveyed the whiteboard in front of him.

Both men along with Van Pelt were in the lock up facility Minelli had procured, continuing to exclude possible Red John suspects while also looking for connections of the same suspects for murders.

A couple of days earlier Lisbon had arranged to meet them there and had filled them in on Ryan's 'murder' and the full extent of the off the books work she'd been doing. They'd agreed working there was far less obtrusive and suspicious than at her apartment – especially considering Lisbon's unexpected 'bereavement'.

"Hey, guys, got something," Van Pelt piped up from the chair in the far corner of the room as she tapped keys on a laptop. "You know that Sheriff from Napa, McAllister? I think we should take a closer look at him. His spending habits are...weird."

"Weird how?" Cho asked without looking up.

"He rarely uses a credit card-"

"Hardly makes him Red John. What else?"

"No. Let me finish - he has _never_ used his credit card _nor_ made a phone call on the late evenings or during the night of any of the Red John murders-"

"So?"

"He has never _answered_ a call either. He missed three calls on the nights of three of the murders. All call outs in his area he didn't respond to until the following morning."

Rigsby interjected, "Still, Grace, doesn't add up to much. You met him, means he's a lousy cop, doesn't mean he's a serial killer."

"Lisbon told us to look for discrepancies. And-and I always thought there was something off about him." She pointed to his name added to a board behind Rigsby. "He wouldn't be on our shortlist otherwise." She shrugged, "I'm going to mention it to Jane and the boss. Could be something."

Cho nodded, "Okay. Like Jane said follow our instincts. See what else you can find out about his financials, family, acquaintances and so on."

* * *

"Ray," Lisbon said coolly as she backed off after opening the door. The steel of her gun in her hand caught his gaze.

"You always answer the door with your Glock?" he asked, amused.

"What do you want, Ray? And how did you know where I lived?"

He closed the door behind him and looked around her apartment. "Nice place. Cosy. Could use a few more cushions, maybe-"

"I'm not looking for interior design advice, Ray. Now answer my questions." She gripped the pistol tighter, looked at him with determination.

He scoffed lightly and attempted a smile. "You're-you're not afraid of me, Teresa, are you?"

She pointed her gun at him. "You tell me. Should I be?"

He squinted at her and shook his head. "Teresa, look, I know you're going through a hard time right now-"

"How did you know where I lived?!"

He raised his palms to her. "Okay, okay. Calm down, will you? It was in your personnel file."

"And why were you reading my personnel file?"

He shrugged with a light blush, "I like to brush up on my competition. You're a hell of a cop."

She laughed derisively. "So you wanted to check what skeletons I had in my closet and see if you could use them against me if the opportunity presented itself?"

He sighed, "You make it sound much worse than it was." He nodded towards the gun. "Now, you mind putting the hardware down?"

She lowered the nuzzle of the gun fractionally. "Keep your hands where I can see them and we won't have a problem. What do you want, Ray? It's late and I'm tired."

"You really are being paranoid, you know."

"Well, when your boyfriend is murdered in the custody of the same man who comes to your door at this time of night then you'll have to excuse me."

Haffner shuffled on his toes. Concerned, "How you holding up?"

"What do you care? You were ready to nail him to the cross, weren't you?"

He licked his lips. "That's why I'm here. I was wrong. Obviously. Red John had him killed ergo he's not Red John."

"I told you he wasn't."

"Yes. Mea culpa, all right?"

"And why should I believe a word you say? For all I know you killed him and you're Red John. You had ample opportunity."

He chuckled and drew his head back. "If I were Red John wouldn't I have killed him as soon as he was arrested? Why would I have waited and wasted all that time in an attempt to bring charges?"

"It's the perfect cover story."

He shook his head. "Teresa, I'm not Red John."

"Convince me."

He rolled his eyes. "And how am I supposed to do that? Look, I'm here to offer you my help."

"With what?"

"You're still working the Red John case. Jane and you are close. He's been keeping you informed."

"We're not that close anymore," she maintained. "And it'd be against protocol to advise me on any details of Ryan's arrest."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, please. He'd do anything for you if you asked him to. He's in love with you. It's obvious to a blind man. And protocol? Since when does that man give a damn about rules and regulations? Man's a walking lawbreaker, not a lawman."

As both parties stared at each other in a stalemate Lisbon's cell phone trilled on the coffee table behind her.

"You going to get that?" Haffner enquired.

"Stay where you are. Don't move," responded Lisbon, taking a few steps backwards while keeping her eyes trained on Haffner.

"Lisbon," she said, picking up.

As she continued to look at Haffner her features began to crumble from their stern facade as she listened to the voice on the other end.

Haffner took a step forward as he noticed her blanch. "Teresa?"

She raised her gun again at him instinctively and he stopped short, the shake in her hand matching the quiver in her voice. "Where?" she said quietly. "And do we have an estimate on time of death?"

Then she nodded slowly, blinked rapidly as her breathing settled. She dropped the gun to her side again with a firmer nod. "Okay, I'll be right there, boss. Yeah...yeah...I know."

With a deep breath, she hung up as Haffner continued to look at her quizzically. "Red John?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. How did you-?"

"He's the only killer I can think of who might have the ability to rattle Teresa Lisbon."

"It's not just that. This time he killed someone I know."

* * *

Jane was getting some much-needed air outside the whitewashed house in Red Bluff after inspecting the body, the signature red smiley face silently mocking him from above the bed. He had been the first of the CBI personnel to arrive on site after his journey from Carson Springs back to Sacramento was interrupted by a phone call from Minelli that caused him to make the diversion.

He was closer to the murder scene so he'd arrived before Lisbon and her team. He was thankful he'd be there when she arrived. The murder of this woman had hit him hard and for her, it would be much worse. He had come close to vomiting when he'd seen the mutilation inflicted. Not to mention the familiar figure barely recognisable now from the series of blows to her face.

This was Red John but unlike any other Red John scene he'd seen in person or in photographs. This was Red John at his torturous and revengeful best.

When he saw her car arrive he stepped forward quickly to the yellow tape that circled the property, past the blazing red and blue lights of police automobiles. He breathed out upon seeing her exit her vehicle, a sudden urge to grab her and whisk her away from the loss she'd feel inside. It took him a second to realise that Haffner followed her out of the same car and he frowned as he looked from one to the other. Grim determination greeted him as she caught his eye and for the first time since they'd reconnected he couldn't read her so hard was her forced veneer.

"Inside?" she asked him as if he was just another uniformed officer.

"Y-Yes, but Teresa-" he tried to catch her arm but she was too quick for him and forged ahead leaving him face to face with Haffner.

Jane looked at him, a question in his eyes.

"I was there when she got the call," Haffner explained. "Offered her my help."

Jane's brow furrowed as to why she'd accept it. They hadn't ruled out Haffner as far as he was aware. Then he did some quick calculations in his head, surmising Lisbon had done the same. The time of death and his distance from the murder had alibied him out. Of being Red John, anyway. Whether he may work for him...well, that was still up for debate.

* * *

"Jesus!" Haffner exclaimed quietly upon entering the bedroom and seeing the woman on the bed wrapped in a blood-soaked white sheet. Her smooth dark skin contrasted against it sharply, her thick African American hair matted with dried blood.

Lisbon was staring at the figure on the bed silently, seemingly unaware Haffner and Jane had entered the room.

"Are we sure it's her?" she asked then in a whisper, "Her face is...unrecognisable."

Jane spoke up softly. "Fingerprints are a match. Also, her DNA is on file. It's Pat, Teresa. I'm sorry."

She sniffed and nodded firmly as she continued to stare at the body. "Okay, then." She turned around to both men and spoke confidently without inflexion, her gaze resting on Haffner predominately although she spoke to Jane. "Forensics?"

Jane responded, "On their way. Minelli too."

"I don't want Partridge involved," she said fiercely. "He doesn't get in this room."

"Minelli's taking care of that already. He's sending another team."

She expelled a breath. "Good."

Haffner looked from one to the other. "Why not Partridge? He's an ass but he's a hell of a-...oh. He was the one who found the evidence of Ryan Hastings being Red John. And since that evidence is now in question-"

"It's not in question," Lisbon interjected angrily, "he planted it, faked it. Whatever. Take your pick."

"Okay, I get it, Lisbon," Haffner replied, offering calmness.

Jane took a step forward towards her. Quietly, "Can I talk to you in private?"

"I'm busy right now, Jane," she bristled, moving past him.

He clicked his tongue. _Jane?_ She only reverted to surnames around the office or when he'd screwed up on a case. But as he looked at the dead woman on the bed in front of him it was to be expected.

This _had_ been _his_ plan.

And he _had_ screwed it up.

And in his attempt to save her ex-boyfriend from Red John's fury he'd inadvertently made Pat pay the price instead.

* * *

He found her outside talking to the first responders at the scene, scribbling in her notebook furiously. "Lisbon," he said, tapping her shoulder and gaining her attention. "It's important."

She was about to refuse when she saw the significance in his expression, the urgent need to talk to her. She excused herself and they retreated to a quiet corner outside the house.

"You okay?" he asked her gently.

"Patrick, I don't have time for mollycoddling right now-"

"Okay," he sighed. "Okay. Look, I screwed up-"

"This isn't your fault," she replied automatically.

"This was my plan. And Red John obviously either saw through it or was suspicious enough to torture that woman in there to find out if Ryan was actually dead or not. So, yes, it was."

She licked her lips with a shrug. "I don't know what you want me to say to that. You're going to blame yourself anyway. And I can't...make you feel better right now. I'm sorry-"

"I'm not asking you to. I understand that."

Her expression softened marginally. "Do you think she told him that Ryan was alive?"

"Hard to know. But we should assume that she did."

"Should we move him elsewhere?"

"I think that would be a bad idea. If he wasn't tracking our movements before he will be now. We can't go anywhere near Carson Springs in the foreseeable future. But I'll call Pete on that emergency burner we gave him and give him a heads up-"

"I don't want to put your friends in jeopardy too, Patrick."

"It's too late to worry about that now. We need to play with the hand we've been dealt." He cracked a glimmer of a smile. "Don't worry, Carnie folk take care of each other. And trouble if it comes their way."

"I hope you're right."

He nodded. "Why was Haffner with you tonight? What did he want?"

She shrugged. "He said he knew he screwed up with Ryan's case and wanted to help. Obviously, he thinks he's dead but..."

"You believe him? We know now he's not Red John but he could still work for him. Maybe fishing to ascertain if your grief was real?"

"I-I don't anything right now. But I wanted to gauge his reaction at seeing Pat like that. He knew her too. Did you get a read off him? I-I was...distracted. Sorry."

"He was shocked by the...frenzied nature of the attack. But not many people wouldn't be. But I didn't get the impression he knew about it."

"Doesn't mean he doesn't work for Red John. It's not like he has to tell his followers what his plans are, does it?"

"Hm, true. What does your gut tell you about him? When he was talking to you earlier before you got the news about Pat, what...vibe did you get from him?"

She thought for a second. "I thought he sounded sincere. But now...I-I just don't know."

Jane smiled gently. "Okay, good enough."

"You better call Pete," she said, taking a step away.

"Hang on," he interrupted. "I have something else to tell you. To show you, actually."

She noticed Minelli arrive. Distracted, "What is it?"

"I was first on the scene. Well, apart from local PD."

"So?"

He pulled her into a dark corner beside the house where they were alone before he pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket gently. He unwrapped it cautiously. And to Lisbon's surprise, she could see nothing inside.

He whispered, "This was different to any other Red John murder, remember? He wanted answers from her. So, knowing all of that I knew he wouldn't have tasered her into submission. Not without talking to her first. At length. He _needed_ her coherent to ask about Ryan."

Lisbon frowned at the handkerchief. "There's nothing there. What's this about, Patrick?"

Jane folded the handkerchief into a small square again carefully. "He beat her. Badly," he explained.

"I don't need reminding. I saw what that bastard did to her."

"Yes, sorry. I know. She was feisty, right? Took self-defence if I'm not mistaken."

"Y-Yes. She had an incident in the Morgue a few years back, guy got in somehow and threatened her for not releasing his wife's body during an investigation into her murder. Why? What does that matter? Clearly, he overpowered her."

"Yes. Clearly. But I suspect she tried to fight him off at first. And Pat was a hell of a coroner. She knew the importance of obtaining any kind of DNA better than anyone. And she did." He paused, "Well, I suspect she did. Hope she did. Or at least tried."

Lisbon frowned at the piece of cloth in Jane's hand. "There's nothing on it. And even if she had tried he'd have cleaned it up before he left. He's too careful."

"Perhaps not as careful as he thought he was. And not all DNA is immediately visible, remember."

She frowned and then her expression cleared, her eyes lighting up like bright saucers. "Saliva?"

He nodded with a small smile. "Maybe. I don't know, really. But she got _something_. I don't know what or how she managed it. Maybe she stuck her fingers in his mouth, eye sockets, ears, I-I don't know, really. I'm not a DNA expert. Maybe he wasn't wearing a mask. Maybe he took if off to question her or to gain entry to her house. Anyhow, however it happened...when I got there I noticed her left hand was closed in on itself like a fist. Like she was holding onto something tightly. Rigour Mortis hadn't set in so I unfurled it while I waited for the Medical Examiner to arrive."

At her shocked expression he nodded, "Against every regulation in the book, I know. But I was curious. So I wiped her palm and her fingers with my very clean handkerchief."

Lisbon glanced at the handkerchief again. "Could be nothing there at all, Patrick."

"You could be right. But how she was holding it tells me different. Like she wanted it to be a clue. Something important she didn't want to be contaminated with blood. You have an outside lab you can call in a favour on to find out?"

Lisbon nodded. "Yeah, yes, of course." She pursed her lips. "Wouldn't he have realised she'd collected something?"

"Who but she would have the presence of mind to do something like that when they're being tortured? When they know they're going to die? I think he missed it. He was enjoying himself too much."

Tears brimmed in Lisbon's eyes as she took hold of the possible DNA sample reverently. "Let's hope your right. But damn it's a long shot."

"We're certainly due some luck," he told her sadly.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34 – Talking Points

"Okay, where are we?" Minelli's voice boomed in the lock up facility as he addressed Lisbon, her team and Jane.

Lisbon spoke first. "I dropped off the possible DNA sample to a lab in San Francisco. I trust them. Had to use them a couple of times for an off-book operation when I worked at SFPD. Preliminary results should be available in a few days. Further tests could take a few weeks depending on trace found."

"Good. Van Pelt? You wanted to discuss Sheriff McAllister further?"

Nervously as all eyes went to her, "Uh, yes, sir. After some more checking on his finances, he's obviously a hunter. Has purchased an array of paraphernalia – rifles, night vision goggles, various knives-"

"A lot of people hunt, Van Pelt. What's your point?"

"He rarely socialises – no bar tabs, restaurant receipts on his credit card for a sole diner. He's a loner. Lives alone, no family to speak of-"

"How was his upbringing?" Jane asked with curiosity, moving from his position of casually leaning against a wall and taking a step forward.

"Parents divorced when he was eight. His father took off. As far as I know, they're still estranged to this day."

"I'm all for using psychological background as a means of investigating, guys, but where's the proof he's our man?" Lisbon cut in. "And, come on, a loner who hunts in his spare time? That's thousands of Americans today. And isn't a loner who grew up with a lousy childhood a tad clichéd for a serial killer?"

Jane raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Aren't you the one who states sometimes the most obvious solution is often the right one?"

"Yeah, but I still need convincing he's Red John."

Jane nodded. "Actually I agree with you on that point. It's not enough. It's too vague. Although...if Grace is so convinced I think I should meet him-"

"We've already had this discussion," Lisbon interjected sharply.

Calmly, "Yes. And we agreed when there was a shortlist it would be time to explore a face to face meeting with me with those on it." Softly, "We're here, Teresa."

As the two lovers stared at each other in a stalemate Minelli cleared his throat. "All right. Let's discuss that option soon. What else?"

"Partridge," Cho said. "His credibility is ruined. The man he pointed to as Red John is supposedly dead but now he's struck again. He has to be worried Red John has kicked him to the kerb. Might make him more malleable."

Minelli smirked, "My thoughts exactly, Cho. I've had him picked up and put in protective custody as soon as I heard there was another murder. He came quietly. I'm letting him think things over for now. Give him some time to collect his thoughts."

"Says a lot he came without objection," Cho remarked.

"It does. And the time to think will hopefully make him see he has nowhere to go apart from telling us what he knows."

"When can I question him?" Lisbon asked.

"Actually, I want Cho to take lead on it," Minelli stated.

"Boss-"

"Lisbon, you're supposed to be on bereavement leave. And your involvement with Ryan precludes any objectivity in the matter. I need someone cool and collected to rein him in, not someone who wants to take a sledgehammer to him."

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from objecting. He made perfectly valid points even if she didn't like it. After Pat's murder, her temper was frayed to breaking point.

"Okay, Cho will do a great job," she admitted quietly.

"What about Shettrick?" Rigsby asked. "We going after her too?"

"No," Jane answered. "She doesn't know we have her in our sights. Let's keep it that way but keep monitoring her. She's someone we can feed misinformation to if we need to."

"Agreed," Minelli said. "Okay, we all done? I'd like to get two hours sleep at least tonight if possible."

"Just one more thing," Jane said. "Lisbon's bereavement leave. I think she needs to come back to work tomorrow."

Van Pelt responded, "But her fiancé and her friend were murdered within days of each other...well, we know Ryan wasn't actually but people think he was-"

"And how would your fearless leader actually act if both those statements were true?"

"I'd want to get back to work," Lisbon answered for her, "I wouldn't be able to just sit on the sidelines like this."

"Precisely," Jane smiled. Quietly, "And you're safer at work surrounded by cops than at that apartment of yours alone all day."

"Fair enough, "Minelli nodded. "Come back tomorrow, Lisbon."

"Thanks, boss."

"I have a question about Haffner," she added. "He knows something is going on. Do we tell him what we're doing?"

"No," Jane replied firmly. "Not yet. His timing at your apartment...it's entirely too coincidental for my liking."

"You really think he works for Red John?" Van Pelt asked.

"I'm not sure of anything just yet. But there's something about him I don't trust."

Rigsby sniggered quietly to Cho, "Yeah, he has the hots for the boss is what you don't like."

"What was that?" Lisbon asked.

"Uh, eh, oh, nothing, boss," Rigsby said with a blush.

Jane shot him a half amused glare. "Chicken."

Minelli puffed out a breath. "Okay, that's it for tonight. Go get some sleep."

As the team gathered up papers and put their jackets on he added as he made the door, "Lisbon, you lock up. And...and thank you all for your efforts. I'm proud to know and work with each and every one of you."

* * *

After Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt left Jane hung around as Lisbon logged into a laptop and printed off a photo of Pat silently.

She picked it up from the printer and stared at it with a sigh. As she went to pin it up on the wall beside the other Red John victims Jane arrived at her side and rubbed her shoulder. "You want me to do it?" he asked her gently.

She flinched at his touch and shook her head. "No, I can do it."

After she placed it she sighed again as she looked at the many faces staring back at her. "How many more?" she asked him quietly.

"We'll catch him soon, Teresa. We're making progress."

"Are we?" she asked dispiritedly. "We don't even know if we're on the right track with this list. McAllister...the others...could be none of them, Patrick. And Partridge? He might be nothing but a cog who knows nobody but another cog. We could be as far away as ever from catching him."

"That's the spirit, that positive attitude of yours," he quipped.

She turned and glowered at him. "You think all of this is funny?"

His face fell. "Of course not. You _know_ I don't. Just doing what I normally do and making asinine jokes in times of tragedy."

"Yeah, I know," she said. She went to move past him and he took her arm. "Are we okay?"

"Yeah, of course," she responded, not catching his eye as she walked away from him and grabbed her handbag.

"I know you don't want me to meet McAllister but I really think I should."

"Let's talk about it tomorrow. I'm too exhausted to think about that tonight."

A chill hung in the air like a looming snowstorm as she put on her jacket.

"I understand that you blame me for Pat, Teresa. It was my plan-"

"I don't blame you. I already told you that earlier," she bit back.

"Then why can you barely look at me? Why are you being so distant?"

Pithily,"Excuse me if I'm not in the mood to make out with you at this precise minute, Patrick. Been a hell of a day."

Irritated, "What gives you the impression I'd want that from you currently? I am capable of reading the mood of a room. I'm quite good at it, actually. And right now all I want is the truth from you, Teresa."

She swallowed hard and flung her handbag over her shoulder. "Let's go, shall we? It's been a long night."

They left each other at their respective vehicles with barely another word spoken.

* * *

"Teresa?" Stan Lisbon stood facing Lisbon at his front door, his dark hair stuck up on its ends and his features screwed up from having just been woken up.

"Were you asleep?" she said, gnawing on her lower lip as she noticed the white vest and boxer shorts he was wearing.

"Duh," he said with an eye roll. "Most people are at two am."

"Sorry," she muttered. "Can I come in?"

He ran a hand through his hair with a quick nod. "Yeah, yeah, of course."

He swung the door open and pointed to the living room. "Go make us some coffee and I'll get dressed."

"Thanks, Stan," she said with appreciation.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and poked his head around the door. "Hey, this-this isn't about...women stuff, is it? If it is I can wake Karen-"

"My brother the sexist," she replied with a faint smile. "No, it's not about tampons or orgasms or any other perceived 'women stuff' as you would put it. It's you I need to talk to."

He made a face that reminded her of when he was an awkward teenager and that made her smile fully for the first time in days. "Jeez, Reese, TMI. Okay. Stay put, be right back."

He bounded back into the kitchen a few minutes later dressed in an overshirt and jeans. Gratefully he took a mouthful of the coffee she brewed. "Okay, what's up?"

When she didn't respond immediately he sat down opposite her at the kitchen table as she sipped her beverage. Quietly, "Is it-is it Ryan? You doing okay? I still can't believe he's dead, sis. I'm so sorry. He was a good man."

She licked her lips. "It's partly that." She exhaled slowly. "Ryan's alive," she admitted. "His death was...faked. I couldn't say anything to you until after the funeral. Had to make it look as realistic as possible. If you'd known the truth you might have given the game away."

Stan frowned immediately. "Huh? What the hell are you going on about?"

"It's a long story. And a secret. You can't tell anyone I just told you that. Well, apart from Karen, naturally, but tell her to keep it to herself too."

He got up from his chair in a daze. "Christ." Standing with his back to the kitchen counter he added, "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Long story short his life was in danger so a plan was hatched to make it look like he was dead."

"Christ," he repeated.

"Yeah, I know."

A smile flickered across his lips. "It was Patrick's plan, wasn't it? Right up his alley. Am I right?"

She snorted a laugh. "Yeah...yeah, it was."

"Son of a bitch," he said with admiration.

"Yeah," she said with less enthusiasm, her eyes back on the contents of her mug again.

"So why so down?" he asked.

"You didn't watch the news earlier?"

"No, rugrats kept me busy with storytime. What did I miss?"

"Red John-"

"Oh god, not him again."

"He murdered a good friend of mine tonight."

"God, I'm sorry, T. Why? Because of what happened with Ryan? You said before he was being framed-"

"Yeah, but that doesn't concern you. We can discuss that whole matter another time." She cleared her throat. Louder, "Anyway, the reason I'm here is that I need you to take Karen and the kids somewhere away from California. Right away. And no arguing. Go see Karen's family in Florida or take a vacation someplace else. I need you to go and I don't have time to fight with you about it."

"What? You're afraid he's going to come after _us_ too? Why?"

"Yes, I am. It doesn't matter why but I need you to listen to me and do as I say. I'm not going to sleep a wink until you're all somewhere safe."

"Then you must believe you're in danger too."

"Don't worry about me. Take care of your family."

" _You're_ my family, too!"

"Stan-"

"No, Teresa. If you're that worried then you need to come with us."

"I can't. I have to be here. I _have_ to catch him."

"Let someone else take care of it."

"I don't _want_ anyone else to take care of it!"

A couple of stray tears fell on her cheeks that she batted away furiously. "Please, Stan. For me. Please go. I owe it to the people who've already lost their lives to stay here and finish this. It's important. I wouldn't ask this of you otherwise."

He looked around his kitchen for a long minute. He furrowed his brow and spoke quietly. "You really think he'd hurt my kids?"

"He hasn't before but that doesn't mean he's not capable of it. But I'm more worried about what he might do to Karen."

His gaze travelled to the ceiling above him and he pursed his lips. He swallowed hard. "How long for?"

"I don't know. But...not long. Hopefully."

He nodded. "Okay, if it's that important and you really think she's in danger I'll get us on the road in the morning. But you better keep yourself safe, Teresa, or I swear I'll kill you myself."

"I'll function better and be able to concentrate on catching him without having to worry about you all being here. I promise I'll be okay. And thank you. You can't imagine how relieved I am."

"You have a plan to catch him?"

She shrugged. "Not yet but we have a couple of good leads."

"Patrick working on this too?"

"Yeah, but what does that matter?"

"He's smart. Good at this stuff, right? Catching bad guys?"

"Yeah...yeah, he's working on it too." She sipped her coffee again.

"Okay, what's going on with you and him?"

"Huh?"

"You and Patrick. You two dating again and have a bust up?"

"No!" she replied immediately. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

"Because every time I mention his name you become irrationally interested in the colour of coffee."

She looked outside to the treehouse at the bottom of the garden illuminated by fairy lights. She said quietly, "That day he came to Annie's party...what did you two talk about up there?"

"Men stuff," he answered with a wink.

"Stan."

"Tell me the truth about you and him first."

She blushed. "I thought you didn't want to participate in any 'girl talk'."

He raised his eyebrows and leant back in his chair, his stare unwavering.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay. Yeah, I broke up with Ryan and Patrick and I started dating again. All right?" Quieter, "At least, we had. I-I'm not being very fair to him right now, to be honest."

"What did he do? This plan involving Ryan? Something go wrong?"

She nodded. "I know he was doing what he thought was right at the time. And Ryan was in a really tight spot. You have no idea. And it was a genius move, really. But what he did meant a friend of mine died instead. And I _know_ it wasn't his fault. He could never have known that was going to happen. But I-I'm punishing him anyway. And pushing him away."

"You need to stop doing that."

She rolled her eyes again. "Wow, thanks for the advice. Just like that, huh?"

"Yeah." He reddened. "Look...you love him?"

"Oh god, maybe you should get Karen if you're going down this line of questioning-"

Seriously, "Stop deflecting. You love him?"

Meekly, "Yeah...I-I think I do."

"So tell him that, for chrissakes. Tell him why you're pissed off and that you're sorry and stop keeping everything inside. It's always been your problem."

"Whereas yours has always been talking too much," she responded with a glimmer of a smile. She sighed. "Maybe I've already messed this up and we've barely had a restart."

"Nah, he's crazy about you. That makes him pure crazy in my books but each to their own, huh?" he grinned.

She swatted his arm. "Hush." As he rubbed his arm she asked, "Why are you such a cheerleader for him anyway? You've been like this since he came back. You sure he didn't hypnotise you up in that treehouse that day to talk him up to me?"

Stan grinned. "Hm. Hypnosis, eh? Funny you should mention that."

* * *

Jane greeted Lisbon much the same way Stan had an hour earlier, eyes blearily focusing on her at his front door. Unlike the pleasantries exchanged between siblings, she pushed him roughly on his bare chest and slammed the door behind her.

"How could you not tell me something like that?!"

"Ow!" he rubbed his chest. "Jeez, woman, you don't know your own strength. And what am I supposed to have done? And have you seen the time?!"

"This couldn't wait until morning."

"Obviously," he muttered under his breath as he yawned and padded over the kitchen in his pyjama bottoms.

"I talked to Stan just now," she said accusingly.

As he fetched the kettle he responded, "Quite the midnight tour you have going on tonight."

"He told me what you did in Chicago."

His hand stopped briefly as he fetched two teabags from a canister of the counter. "Hm? Told you what?" he asked innocently. "You know, Stan is a joker. A trickster. He has a big mouth and is not a reliable source for information-"

"You know damn well what he told me, Patrick Jane. And you know it was the truth."

He turned to face her with his most charming smile. "I do?"

She marched up to him and he drew back slightly, unsure if he was to be punished further. Then a smile erupted on her face that made him smile in return. "I can't believe you did that for me," she said in awe. "You-you changed the course of my life, Patrick. You changed the course of all of our lives."

"You make it sound much more impressive than it actually was."

"You stopped my father from drinking again. From hurting any of us again. I can never repay you for that."

He slipped his hands around her waist. "Which is why I didn't want you to know. And I don't require repayment. I don't want you to be with me because of gratitude for something I did over a decade ago. And I repeat. It wasn't that big a deal. I had no idea it was even going to work. I wasn't even that good at hypnosis back then. He was the one who stayed sober, Teresa. He did the work. I merely facilitated him seeking the help-"

He was cut off by Lisbon's kiss. "Shut up and say you're welcome."

He kissed her back. Grinning, "Okay, shutting up now." As he nuzzled her shoulder he whispered, "And you're very welcome."

She disentangled herself from him half-heartedly. "And I'm sorry about earlier. I was mad. And I had no right to be with you."

He looked to his bare feet, "Yes, you did-"

"No, I didn't. You asked Pat for her help and she gave it to you. You didn't force her or manipulate into doing it. She knew the risks, Patrick. She wouldn't have helped all this time otherwise. She was a brave and strong and resourceful woman. And we're going to honour her memory by catching him and making him pay."

"We will," he agreed.

She licked her lips. "A-And there's something else I need to say." She paused to draw a calming breath. "I-I love you."

He smiled again, brighter than before. "You do? Well, that's lucky."

* * *

 **A/N: As those of you who are following Broken already know I've decided to concentrate on this story now as it comes to its conclusion so I can invest myself fully in tying plot points together without distraction. I'm not going to say how many chapters to go because if I do I know I'll be wrong as I do tend to waffle on! Anyway, hope you like the ending I have planned. And a big thank you for sticking with me this long and a special thank you for those who compliment me so nicely both here and on Twitter with your reviews.**


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: Apologies for not responding to reviews for last chapter, been busy trying to get as much as this story plotted & written as I could before taking a short holiday. Also intend to catch up with my fanfiction reading while I'm away, there are a couple of new stories & some updates I'm very much looking forward to reading.**

* * *

Chapter 35 – Closing In

Jane kissed the side of Lisbon's head, buttoning up his vest in the kitchen as she buttered some toast. "Glad you decided to stay over."

She drawled as she bit into a piece of bread, "Yeah, all two hours of sleep were _just_ fantastic."

"Meh, it's the quality, not the length as they say," he winked.

She laughed as his phone chirruped on the counter with a call from Cho. "Cho wants me to interview Partridge with him this morning," he announced after he hung up.

"Lucky you," she replied with a bark of annoyance.

He smiled, "You really think you could hold your temper with him? You couldn't stand him even before we knew he was connected to Red John."

"You're one to talk. He irks you too."

"True. But I'm the one more unlikely to put him in a headlock out of the two of us, my dear."

"Okay, fine. Let me know what happens."

* * *

Cho was waiting for him in an off-site detention suite Minelli had proffered from a trustworthy colleague. Partridge was inside its grey walls, shackled to the table and sweating profusely.

As Cho opened the door he tried to get up and his restraints made a jangling sound as he pulled on them. "Agent Cho-"

"Sit down," the agent ordered him, taking a seat opposite.

As both colleagues sat side by side and Cho opened a file, Jane pushed his chair back and crossed one leg over the other as he studied the man opposite. He smirked at him without saying a word.

"Agent Cho," Partridge repeated with a tilt of his chin, looking at Jane nervously out of the corner of his eye, "look, you have this all wrong. I was only doing my job-"

"No. You weren't. You took orders from Red John. And he's allowing you to take the fall for those actions now he's killed again. You believe he'll come to your rescue? It's easier for him to kill you. You're a loose end and you know he hates those. Tell us what you know of him and maybe we can work out a deal that will keep you alive. Maybe you didn't know what you were getting into until it was too late. Can happen to anyone."

When Partridge didn't respond immediately Jane exhaled dramatically. "Please spare us the histrionics and the lies, Partridge. You have information on Red John that you _will_ give to us. You were either paid off by him or you work for him. You planted that evidence on Ryan Hastings or you faked it. It doesn't matter which. All that does is how close you are to the top of the tree. You _know_ he has a network of people who do his bidding. What I'm interested in finding out is if you actually know him or are you more...cockroach level in his organisation? If so we might as well leave now, we can catch one of those suckers any day of the week. Good luck in getting out of town."

Jane and Cho stood up at the same time.

"W-wait!" Partridge stammered as they turned to leave. "I-I have information. Good information. Information you'll want."

Cho laid his palms on the table and stared at him. "What is it?"

Partridge relaxed slightly. "I know who he is." He smiled like a wolf. "Have I got your attention now, gentlemen?"

Jane narrowed his eyes at him. "Okay, I'm game. Who is it?"

He shook his head. "No. I know how you work, Mr Jane. With all your...tricks. I want a deal for immunity before I say anything more. Believe me, I can give you Red John," Partridge reiterated.

Cho responded, "Tell us who it is or I can release you and you'll be dead by nightfall."

"Agent Cho, I can help you. But only if you help me in return. I may be killed if you let me go but you'll also miss your best chance at catching Red John. Are you willing to give that up? I have documentation to prove what I tell you is the truth."

Jane asked, "You're telling us that you're so entrusted by him that you not only know him but have actual proof that connects him to being Red John? I find that hard to believe."

"Why? Because I'm nothing but a...nerd as you would put it?"

"No. Because you have the charm of a gnat, my friend. I think you're overselling what you have on him. Where's this proof of yours?"

"He recruited me when I was a teenager and I've been with him for years. Trust means everything to him. He's interested in loyalty, not looks." Partridge showed his teeth to Jane and looked him up and down. "Not show or flashy cars."

Jane grinned and looked sideways at Cho. "Well, if you got it flaunt it is what I say."

Partridge scoffed and looked away from him.

"Why are you willing to give him up now?" Jane continued. "I mean if this is the longstanding relationship you say it is-"

"Relationships run their course sometimes. And he's obviously...displeased with me. And like you say I've been around long enough to know what happens to someone when he's displeased. Why would he have had Hastings killed otherwise and therefore push the spotlight onto my work? He's made an enemy out of me so it's either him or me now."

"Hm. It's worrying for you, certainly, as it stands."

Cho said, "You need to give me something first before I can get you a deal."

"I'm not telling who he is. But...but I will tell you where I've stored the information I have on him. You can check I'm telling you the truth about that. That's as far as I'll go."

"All right. Where is it?"

"Safety deposit box at The Bank of America here in Sacramento. I accessed it yesterday. Call the assistant manager, Mr Andrews, and ask him yourself. Or if he won't give out that information, check the security footage. You'll see me enter the Bank around eleven am and be shown to the safety deposit area by him."

Cho drummed his fingers on the table as he pondered. "Okay. If this checks out I may be able to get you immunity. _If_ you haven't killed anyone with your own hands, that is," Cho replied.

"Of-of course I haven't. We have a deal?"

"We'll see," Cho responded with a raised eyebrow and a look of scorn.

* * *

"Agent Lisbon, you're back from bereavement leave I see," J.J. LaRoche stated, startling her as she fixed some coffee in the break room.

She turned around with a well practiced smile of courtesy. "Agent LaRoche. Haven't seen you around these parts in a while."

He took a step forward and studied her openly, a long pause before he spoke. "Is there a reason I should have been, Agent?"

Her brow crinkled, "Huh? No, no, of course not." She cleared her throat as she felt her neck redden. A conversation with LaRoche always reminded her of an old priest she used to confess to in her youth – that same look of suspicion even when she'd confessed all her sins that made her want to admit to more just to make him believe her.

"What can I do for you?" she asked.

"I need to speak to Patrick Jane. Agent Haffner told me that I might find him here."

She shrugged, "I-I don't know why he'd have told you that. He works for Ray now, not me."

"Yet he did." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why do you think that is, hmm?"

"You'd need to ask him."

She went to move past him but he spoke again, louder so that a passing agent could hear him. "You and Mr Jane were once in a...romantic relationship."

She licked her lips as she faced him again. "Why is that any of your business? It was years ago. Before he worked here."

"Why so defensive, Agent?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know what? I don't have time for this." She went to move away again.

"You don't think he has motive for killing your boyfriend Ryan Hastings?"

Her eyes widened. "You think Patrick murdered Ryan? Out of what, jealousy? That's ludicrous!"

"You see the actions of jealousy every day. Is it that inconceivable? He was the last person to speak to him, after all."

"The last person that you _know_ of," she countered. "Believe me, you're barking up the wrong tree. Red John had him killed, not Patrick. You need to widen your investigation."

"Oh, believe me, I am looking at all angles." He looked her up and down. "Strange though that you defend him so vehemently if your romance was so long ago."

With that, he began to move past her. He smiled faintly, "Tell Jane to come see me. If you happen to see him, that is."

* * *

"Hey, boss, welcome back," Van Pelt said, greeting Lisbon at her desk.

"Thanks, Van Pelt." She straightened some items in front of her, still unnerved from LaRoche's impromptu hijack in the break room.

He was obviously on the wrong track but how long before he wasn't and discovered Ryan's death was a ruse?

She spoke to Van Pelt. "Thanks, Grace, good to be back." Noticing the sheet of paper in the redhead's hands, "We got a new case?" she asked hopefully. A 'normal' murder case would be a refreshing change while she waited on news of Partridge from Jane and Cho. And would permit her an escape from LaRoche if he decided to stop by and interrogate her further.

"Uh, yeah. Only thing is...it's...well, it's in Napa."

Lisbon's eyes met hers with interest. "McAllister's terrain, huh? What is it?"

"Wine producer murdered after a tasting. Wife is a friend of a senator so-"

"Say no more. Political and wealthy."

She stood up from her desk with renewed vigour. "Okay, let's go check it out."

"Really? You don't think we should run this past Jane and Cho first-"

Amused, "Cho works for me, remember? And Jane isn't on this team anymore-"

She whispered conspiratorially, "Well, yeah, I know. But this is McAllister, you don't think they'd like to be informed, considering?"

"They have their hands full with Partridge this morning. And I gotta say you have me intrigued about McAllister. Gives me another chance to have a look at him with a different perspective."

"Don't forget Jane wants to meet him too."

Lisbon shrugged, "He can join us later once he's done and I've cleared it with Haffner. Come on, let's get on the road."

* * *

Cho got off the phone with Rigsby and addressed Jane. "His story checks out and AG has agreed to the deal. What do you think?"

Jane's index finger glided slowly across his lower lip as he stared at the man on the other side of the two-way mirror who was now sitting with the lawyer he'd requested. "I don't know. Something...bothers me about all of this."

"You think he's lying?"

"No. I believe he knows who Red John is. But I don't trust him. Something about this feels off."

"We have to check it out anyway."

"I know."

As they re-entered the room Cho said, "Okay, we have a deal. I'll get the paperwork signed off this afternoon. But you have my word." He said to Partridge's lawyer, "Preliminary paperwork has been emailed to you."

His lawyer, a man with grey hair and matching grey suit and complexion checked his phone. He spoke slowly in the tone of a sombre funeral director. "Yes. I have it. Okay. You may proceed with questioning my client."

"We'll need the password and passphrase to access your safety deposit box," Cho said.

"I can provide you with that but you'll also need me to come with you," Partridge replied.

"And so the other shoe drops," Jane quipped as he leant against the wall across with his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Why?" Cho asked Partridge. "Just give us what we need to access."

A smarmy smile crept across his features. "Well, unless you feel like gouging my eye out, Agent Cho, you'll need me there. The box is biometrically accessed."

"I'm sure that could be arranged," Jane muttered under his breath.

"You're not leaving my sight if we do this," Cho told Partridge coldly. "Understand?"

"Yes, of course, Agent Cho. This is in both our interests, isn't it?"

* * *

"You're going to Napa?" Jane asked as Cho held a conference call with Lisbon as paperwork was being couriered to their location for Partridge to sign.

"Yeah, a case came up."

"You think it's a good idea going up there right now knowing what you know about McAllister?"

"We don't know anything about him for sure yet, Jane. It's our case. It would appear strange if we _didn't_ show up, wouldn't it?"

"Hm," he agreed unhappily. "Why not wait until Partridge shows us his hand first?"

"You just said you thought this might all be a trick. And that perhaps there's nothing in that box and he's just doing all this to mess with us and try to escape."

"I did say that but-"

"Look, we're almost there. Give me a call when you're finished with Partridge. If it's a dead end come up and join us. I'll clear it. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Just...just take care." Remembering Van Pelt was also on the open line he added with less worry, "Both of you."

Lisbon glanced at Van Pelt. "We will. Talk later. And you guys be careful too with that slippery son of a bitch."

* * *

Partridge was flanked by Rigsby and Cho as he made his way inside the bank. Jane followed in their wake, his gaze flickering from side to side for any signals from their captive that he might try to escape.

As they crowded into the vault Partridge made use of the iris scanner to access box 5467-3566. It exited from its place on the vast wall slowly with an electronic whirr.

"The wonders of technology," Jane mused.

As Partridge went to grab the box Rigsby stepped in front of him. "If you don't mind we'll take it from here."

"You're much too suspicious, Agent Rigsby. You think I have a weapon in there or something?"

Rigsby regarded him with distrust as he placed the long steel box on the table in the room.

Partridge held his hands up and backed away to the doorway. "Okay!"

As the agents gathered around the table Jane kept his eyes trained firmly on Partridge for any attempt at escape or trickery.

With a deep breath, Cho opened the box slowly. Assured it wasn't booby trapped he flung the metal top onto the table. A lone flash drive sat inside and Cho held it up to Partridge. "Is this it?"

"Believe me, it's more than enough for you to make your arrest."

"I have a tablet in the car where we can access it," Cho said to his colleagues.

Jane replied, "Then let's get to it."

* * *

The four men were back in their SUV minutes later. While Jane and Cho sat in the front Partridge was handcuffed to the back door handle as he sat beside Rigsby.

"Come on," Jane urged as Cho swiped fingers on his tablet.

"Need to switch the wifi off and the network connection to the CBI. This could be a virus. Hang on."

"I swear it's not," Partridge told him.

Cho huffed in disbelief as Jane rolled his eyes. "Can you just be quiet back there," he sighed.

"Here we go," Cho said, inserting the drive into a slot.

As it read the drive Jane sighed again loudly in impatient irritation.

The three men crowded around the device, Jane and Cho in the front and Rigsby looking on from the back seat. Partridge was content to sit back, absently watching the street from the blacked out window beside him.

"Documents. And video files," Cho announced.

"Any names on the files?" Jane squinted.

"No, just numbered files."

"What's on this?" Jane asked Partridge.

"Find out for yourself," he replied petulantly.

Jane rolled his eyes again and spoke to Cho. "Okay, let's play a video file then, shall we?"

As Cho clicked on it a dark room and the sound of a man's breathing appeared on the small screen. The film was from the filmmaker's point of view, his footsteps heard on the soft plush of carpet as he approached a bed, camera shaking as he walked.

"Oh, God," Rigsby said with dread.

Jane nodded in silent horror, swallowing before he spoke. "Red John recorded his victims sleeping before he killed them."

He was proved correct when a blonde woman in her late twenties came into focus dressed in a white nightgown, her features smoothed in sleep.

"That's Danielle Tomkins, his third victim," Cho said.

A gloved finger poked her in the shoulder and her eyes opened slowly, bleary from sleep. As her eyes became accustomed to the figure standing over her she screamed in terror.

"Turn it off," Jane said breathlessly, unsure if his stomach could watch the horror that he knew lay ahead.

Cho pointed at the time on the screen as the screen went black a few seconds later. "That's all there is anyway."

Rigsby said, "Guess he had to put the camera down to...well, you know..."

Jane turned to Partridge. "The other videos are more of the same?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod as he looked at the street.

"Why do you have these?"

"I told you we were close. He wanted someone he trusted to hold onto them in case he was ever arrested and his property searched."

Jane clicked his tongue in annoyance. "You want to tell us who he is now?"

"Document 3453. It'll tell you what you need to know. The others will get you your confirmation."

Cho clicked on the document. As three sets of eyes scanned the screen one name at the bottom gained their full attention. "It's McAllister," Rigsby said. "Red John _is_ McAllister. Grace was right."

Jane fished out his phone at lightning speed and dialled Lisbon. His breathing accelerated the more it rang without answer. "Come on, pick up, will you!"


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36 – Crash & Burn

"Sheriff McAllister?" Lisbon said as the lawman made his way slowly towards her with a tilt of his head. "Thanks for joining us."

"Agent Lisbon, good to see you back again in wine country. Apologies, I was taking care of another matter and couldn't be here when you arrived."

"That's no problem," she smiled. "Anything we can help with?" She nodded to Van Pelt who was collecting a statement from a worker at the vineyard they stood in.

"No, no, you have enough on your plate as it is," he said pleasantly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Her cell vibrated in her pocket, Jane's name flashing on the screen. "Sorry, please excuse me for a moment."

"Take your time," McAllister said affably. "I'll go talk to your lovely colleague and you can catch us up."

Lisbon's face changed from amiable to troubled as he turned his back on her. "Hey, what's up?" she said, slightly distracted as she watched him walk towards the redhead. She could only hope Grace could put up an effective front.

"Teresa! Why didn't you answer earlier?!"

"Huh? Oh, reception is spotty here. Must have been in a dead zone. Sorry."

His breathing on the other end calmed down. "Okay. You talk to McAllister yet?"

"Just now. You interrupted us actually. What about Partridge? What happened?"

"Flash drive in the safety deposit box. We've only just started looking at the information on it but it appears Red John _is_ Thomas McAllister."

"Oh my god! It appears? How?"

"First document we looked at related to Cut Iron Properties-"

"That was a case we had before you joined-"

"Yeah, Cho filled me in. Seems it's owned by a one Thomas McAllister. The real owner, that is, not the pseudonym you had at the time."

She looked over to where McAllister was chatting to Van Pelt. "Christ. I'm looking at Red John right now."

"Hm. It certainly looks that way, yes. Control your breathing and give nothing away."

She swallowed thickly. "Yeah...yeah, I know. Okay then. Tell Cho to get an additional team up here now and we'll bring him in-"

"No. Don't do that."

"But-"

"If he really is Red John then he'll have his people around him up there guarding him in a virtual fortress. It could lead to a bloodbath, Teresa, with you in the middle of it. I'll speak to Minelli and ask him to request McAllister come to Sacramento to discuss...ah...I don't know – something, anything. Let's get him here where he'll have fewer friends than his home base and we can control the situation a little better."

She nodded firmly. "Okay, that's-that's a good idea. I'll do that now."

"Then get back here fast. Tell him you got called to another scene or make up some other excuse. Don't stay there. Do you hear me? If he's Red John that murder could have been a ploy to get you there in the first place. You and Grace come back to Sacramento immediately."

Lisbon nodded breathlessly, the promise she made to her brother at the forefront of her mind. And the enormity of the situation and her presence in the epicentre of the hornet's nest made her breathing quicken some more. "Yeah...yeah, you know what? You're right. I'll grab Van Pelt and we'll be back by evening."

"Teresa?" he said softly.

Flustered, "Yeah?"

"Take a deep breath. It's going to be okay. We're almost there."

* * *

"You were right," Lisbon said to Van Pelt as they drove back to Sacramento. "Good work, Van Pelt."

The redhead shook her head with a grin. "I-I can't believe it. We're actually going to catch him, boss. At last."

As Lisbon smiled back suddenly the screech of tyres from her left made her turn her head sharply in the other direction. A dark car behind was accelerating fast and gaining on them at speed. Lisbon cursed and swerved to the right on the narrow road to allow them to pass. "If I wasn't in a hurry to get back I'd give that asshole a ticket."

Just as she said the words the other car made a sharp turn to their right and careered into the back of their vehicle as it caught up with them. Lisbon clung onto the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white to stay in control. "Van Pelt, call for back up!" she roared.

Van Pelt grasped for her cell as Lisbon put her foot down on the accelerator. But the other car was faster and it rammed into them again. The impact of the collision made Van Pelt drop her phone on the floor. "Damn it!" she shouted, going for her gun instead.

With another growl of their engine, the other car revved loudly and picked up the pace again until they were almost side by side with Lisbon's vehicle. "Can't see who's inside!" Lisbon exclaimed as Van Pelt moved back in her seat and Lisbon moved forward to give her colleague a chance at a clean shot behind her head. The redhead took aim with her gun at the blacked out windows of what they now recognised was a souped up SUV. "There's no way we outrun this, boss!"

Lisbon glanced sideways. Breathlessly, "Here he comes again. Brace yourself!"

Just as Van Pelt went to fire on them the SUV crashed into their vehicle again forcefully and made her abort her shot. And finally, as the weight of the SUV continued to pummel into them with the screech of metal against metal, Lisbon lost the fight to keep hold of the vehicle. Both women screamed as they were run off the road at high speed and spun onto a grass verge. With a loud crash, their car tumbled quickly headfirst through a wooden fence spraying chunks like confetti over the bonnet. Eventually, it tipped over onto its side, coming to rest wheels spinning on a sloping embankment on the other side of the highway. As the wheels slowly came to a stop, the lone sound of a horn pierced the quiet still air of dusk.

* * *

"Van Pelt! You okay?!" Lisbon gasped, wiping the blood from her forehead where the airbag had deployed. The screech of the horn silenced as she moved her body back from the steering wheel.

"Hm?" her colleague responded groggily. "Boss?"

"It's okay," Lisbon said breathlessly, "Don't move. You're pinned in on your side. Just stay with me. It's going to be okay. All right?"

Lisbon blinked quickly to clear the fog in her head and assessed the situation. The car lay on its side, Van Pelt lodged against its right-hand door. "Sorry, this is going to be loud," she told her.

Thankful she was able to access her side arm she removed it and fired into the airbag to deflate it along with its accompanying loud _pop_ , allowing her more ease of movement. But she was unable to fetch her phone from her back pocket in her current position so she carefully unbuckled her seatbelt ensuring she didn't gravitate towards her colleague by holding onto the door handle on the left side with her other hand.

She grunted loudly as she turned her entire body towards the door and wound down the window. She hadn't come out of the crash unscathed and her muscles groaned in response as bruises formed. She was certain she'd cracked a few ribs or perhaps worse. But she was relieved she could move her arms and legs even if they protested and swallowed down the pain it caused her to do so. And she was pretty certain she hadn't lost consciousness so she was grateful for that.

She breathed in the chill of the evening air appreciatively to steady herself while keeping watch for anyone who might follow who would want to finish them off completely. Her top half hanging rather unceremoniously out of the window she fished her phone out of her pocket and called 911 for assistance. She had no real idea where they were but gave information on the last route marker she recalled seeing.

"Grace? You still with me?" she shouted behind her, hanging up.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, boss, I'm okay. But my right side-"

"The ambulance is on the way. Try to regulate your breathing to keep your heart rate down. Try not to move."

Just as Lisbon was about to call Cho she smelt the unmistakable whiff of gasoline. "Oh, crap!" she murmured.

"Boss?"

"It's okay. Nothing to worry about," she lied.

"Okay," she added under her breath, "this is gonna hurt like hell tomorrow."

With a quick forward motion before she could talk herself out of it, she scrambled out of the window and, as best as she could, rolled onto the ground. Her shoulder made a loud popping sound as she hit the earth and she bit down on her bottom lip to stop from screaming out, sure she'd dislodged it. She got to her feet like a newborn foal and closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to compose herself. With a loud yelp, she rolled her shoulder and successfully popped it back into place. "Damn it, that hurt!" she exclaimed with a loud gasp as her eyes watered.

She traipsed in a half stagger around to the other side of the vehicle. It would be impossible to roll it over herself even in optimum condition never mind injured. "You doing okay, Grace?" she shouted through the window.

"Yeah, I'm...what can I do to help?"

"Uh..." Lisbon said, shaking her head. "Just stay there."

She talked to herself as she opened the trunk. "Like she's going anywhere else." She retrieved the fire blanket and the extinguisher kept there and said a prayer she wouldn't need it and that help would arrive before the car burst into flames.

With nothing else to do but keep Van Pelt conscious and wait she called Cho, her headache fully formed and head pounding as she dialled.

"Boss," he answered, "you almost back? We've been looking at these files-"

"Cho, Van Pelt and I were driven off the road on our way back. Must have been one of McAllister's men."

A moment of silence. "You both okay?"

"I'm okay but Grace is injured. Not sure how serious it is. At least a broken arm, maybe some internal bleeding. Can't get a look at her properly. I've called 911."

"Where are you?"

She looked around the field they were in. "I think I'm about an hour out but I'm not sure. I need you to run the plate of the other car and follow up."

"Will do, boss. Hang on-"

Jane's voice came on the line. Panicked, "Teresa? What happened?"

"I'm okay, Patrick, Cho will fill you in. Look, I have to go and check up on Van Pelt but first-"

His voice trembled. "You absolutely sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, just a splitting headache and some cuts and bruises. I'm fine."

She heard him swallow hard and he responded unconvincingly, "Okay."

"Now pass me back to Cho before I forget this damn plate number."

* * *

"They're both okay?" Minelli said as he rushed into the bullpen.

"Looks that way," Cho said. "Ambulance picked them up and they're on the way to Sacramento General."

He looked at the empty couch. "Jane on his way there now?"

"Yeah, sent Rigsby too. He was no use to me."

Minelli squinted at Cho. "Why?-" Then he rolled his eyes. "Oh, God, him too? Van Pelt?"

"You don't want to know."

His boss tutted, "Agreed. Enough mooning about around here as it is."

Cho leant forward and spoke quietly, "You talk to McAllister?"

Minelli responded in the same tone. "Yes, just now. We have somewhat of an Oxy problem in Napa right now so I've asked him to come here for a brainstorming session."

Surprised, "He believe you and agreed to come?"

Minelli shrugged. "If I hadn't seen the evidence Partridge led us to I wouldn't have suspected a thing from his tone. He's coming tomorrow morning. I've sent a team up there undercover to make sure he doesn't do a midnight flit just in case, though."

"You tell anyone what we found?"

Gruffly, "Not yet. But once we have McAllister secured I'll have no option but to give the AG and the FBI a heads up. Regrettably, this might be too big for us to handle on our own if he begins to name names or we find further evidence of this conspiracy at his property."

"Partridge came through."

"Mm. His neck was in the noose, what else could he do? But you're right. He'll get his deal. I've put him in a high-security safe house for now. He's our goddamned golden goose."

* * *

"Teresa?" Jane burst through the curtain that was pulled around the stretcher she sat on as a nurse in her late fifties put a sling on her left arm.

Accusingly, "I thought you said you weren't hurt!"

"It's nothing," Lisbon assured him. "Just had to pop my shoulder back in when I dislocated it. This is just for a few hours."

"Oh, is that all?" He shook his head, eyes wide.

His gaze travelled over her face, a large gash on her forehead covered by a plaster. "I thought cars had airbags nowadays."

The nurse responded, "She'd be in a coma right now if there hadn't have been one in that vehicle. A right mess from what I've been told."

"Thank you. That's very gratifying to hear," he replied, glaring at the nurse's back accompanied by an eye roll.

"I'm fine. Just a headache more than anything," Lisbon assured him.

"She's a trouper," the nurse said with a smile, finishing off with a nod of appreciation of her work.

"Can I go?" Lisbon asked her.

"Hm. I want you to wait fifteen more minutes. Just make sure you don't have a concussion-"

"I told you I didn't lose consciousness-"

"So you say. But you'll wait anyway, Ms Lisbon. And we're still waiting on your X-ray results."

With that, she turned and looked Jane up and down. With a final unfavourable appraisal, she said, "Don't stress her out, young man."

As he gaped in surprise Lisbon laughed lightly as she exited to leave them alone. "She's got your number."

He came closer and allowed himself a smile of relief. "You okay?" he whispered as he gazed into her eyes.

She met his stare. "I'm good. Really."

"X-rays?"

"Think I might have bruised a rib or two."

"So, in Teresa Lisbon speak, that means you may have broken a rib or two?"

She shrugged. "We'll see. This pain medication is working pretty well right now," she smiled.

He let out a breath and took her hand gently as he kissed her temple. "Don't ever do that to me again, okay?"

She squeezed his hand. "I'll try not to. It wasn't exactly under my control. Is there news on Grace?"

"Broken arm and a broken femur. Two broken ribs. She's going to hurt for a while but no major damage that time won't heal. Internally she's fine."

"Thank God for that. Did Cho get a hit on the vehicle that ran us off the road?"

"Yes. Belongs to Dale Briscoe, small time drug dealer according to Cho located in Oakville."

"That's not far from Napa. So it was definitely McAllister, then, he must be one of his people. Last ditch attempt to cause some damage when I left his patch suddenly and upset whatever his plan was to get me there?"

"It would appear so. Briscoe hasn't been located yet. His car was ditched a few miles from where you were found."

She frowned, "Why didn't he make sure we were dead? If this was an assassination then why not check? He could have picked us off easily how we landed. We were hardly in a position to defend ourselves right away."

Jane mirrored her frown. "That is puzzling."

She shrugged. "Well, whatever. I'm more interested in locking up his boss McAllister tomorrow. Let's concentrate on a plan for that instead."

He raised an eyebrow as he studied her, cuts and bruises on her arms, a head injury and her arm in a sling. He nodded to the hospital gown she wore. "Let's get you dressed, checked out, home, showered and fed before we start any further plotting, shall we?"

* * *

"Stop fussing," Lisbon grumbled as Jane pushed a cushion behind her back.

"You insisted on discharging yourself so you pay the price for it," he told her sternly.

They were in her apartment attempting to relax, the events of the day coupled with anxiety over the following one making it practically impossible for either of them. Lisbon had showered with Jane's assistance and they'd just finished eating some takeout, both of them picking over their food almost silently. He arrived back from the kitchen with pills and a glass of water and shot her a look that said, 'don't even think about arguing with me'.

She complied easily, though, as pain replaced the adrenaline rush of the past few hours. "I can help you with the pain," he said as he sat down beside her on the couch.

"Hypnosis?" she snorted, "No thanks, you'd have me doing the lambda or something just for kicks."

He smiled, "Not until you're recovered and could perform it to the best of your ability, my dear."

"Maybe later - about the hypnosis, I mean," she replied honestly, "let's see how this medication works first."

He sighed deeply and laid his head back as he closed his eyes, his hand instinctively reaching for hers. It was too painful to wrap herself in his arms so she mirrored his position with a tight squeeze of his hand.

"You okay?" she said, "You were freaking out at the hospital. Anything you want to talk about?"

He shrugged. "I'm fine."

"You sure? I know it's not easy being with a cop. You wouldn't be the first guy to want to run a mile."

He chuckled then sighed inwardly. "I would hope I'm not just some _guy._ But, saying that, it was easier when I had nothing to lose. All those years where I never made a real connection with anyone, even with Melissa. Now...the weight of what I might lose...it's...difficult facing that."

She turned her head towards him. Hopefully, "You going to be able to cope with it?"

He opened his eyes and stared at her. "I have to, don't I? You're a cop and will always be a cop. Even when this case is finished they'll be another one. And another one. I'll have to find a way to manage the fear. Because being without you is the alternative and that's far more intolerable."

His gaze remained pensive as her smile brightened.

"Something else on your mind?" Lisbon prodded. "Concerned about tomorrow and what he might pull?"

"Something like that," he nodded.

* * *

"Sheriff McAllister."

Minelli stood up from his desk chair in his office at the CBI. "Thank you for coming here and not the Capitol today. Been busy."

The sheriff tipped his hat as the two men shook hands. "Of course. You have a lot going on here by all accounts," he replied with a faint smile. "I'm surprised you have time to discuss matters in my own little patch of your world." He frowned as he leant in closer, "I heard two of your agents were involved in a car crash on their way back here yesterday. Tell me, how are they?"

Minelli withdrew his hand swiftly. "Bearing up. No permanent damage."

"Well...that's good to hear. Fine agents and fine women the pair of them."

Minelli coughed nervously. "Yes, indeed," he said brusquely.

He withdrew from the other man and stood behind his desk, nodding to his office door. Immediately Cho and Rigsby entered and drew their weapons on the sheriff.

McAllister baulked, "Agent Minelli, what on earth?!-"

"Don't move and place your hands on top of your head!" Cho ordered.

"I-"

"Do it now!" Rigsby yelled.

Slowly McAllister complied as he shot Minelli a frown of suspicion. Minelli stated as Cho handcuffed his hands behind his back, "Thomas McAllister, you're under arrest for the murders committed by the serial killer known as Red John. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?"

"What the hell?! Virgil, you have the wrong man. Whatever is going on around here-"

"Do you understand your rights?" Minelli repeated firmly.

McAllister shook his head. "Yes, I understand. But you're wrong. I'm _not_ Red John."

* * *

Jane and Lisbon watched on as the camera secreted in Minelli's office beamed a live feed back to them in her office. "We got him!" she declared with a grin.

She shook her head in surprise. "I can't believe he allowed himself to be arrested so easily. I was sure he'd come here today with backup or something else up his sleeve. How could he not suspect something like this when he was invited here? Especially after trying what he did yesterday."

Jane said nothing for a long moment. Then, "Replay the moment Minelli reads him his rights."

"Why?"

He clicked his tongue as he waited for her to do as he asked.

"Fine," she sighed, hitting a few keys on her laptop to rewind the feed. She pointed to the screen "There."

She got up from her chair with a grunt as her ribs ached from the sudden movement. "He's secured now so I'm going to question the bastard," she said triumphantly. Cheerfully, "Coming?"

Jane peered at the screen more closely and then leant back in his chair, his expression thoughtful as a line remained between his eyes.

"What's the matter? Let's go and finish this so we can have those mai tais," she smiled. Then her face fell. "Don't say it. I've seen that look before. Patrick-"

"It's not him," he told her, ignoring her plea. "I knew there was more to this than met the eye. Knew it yesterday. He's telling the truth, Teresa. He's not Red John."

* * *

 **A/N: I just hope you don't hate me too much for this twist (if it helps I have thought it out!). Thanks again for reading & especially those who still comment so regularly. I know this story has lost some interest but your kind reviews keep me motivated to finish it (& continue writing these fics, in general).**


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: Finally back with an update to this one (next chapter is almost complete also so I promise not too long before another update). Thank you to everyone who has helped this fic exceed 1000 reviews, I'm absolutely flattered and delighted. I know I've said it before but your words of encouragement for any fic really do spur me on to continue writing for this wonderful fandom. And for anyone who hasn't read it yet, I have also just published a oneshot called Endings for a little Twitter project I was involved in. You might want to check it out.**

* * *

Chapter 37 - The Magician

Lisbon took a step away from the door. "What?! What on earth would make you say a thing like that?"

"Couple of things. Firstly, his whole demeanour when he was arrested. Outright shock. Not surprise - shock. And secondly, like you said, why if he was really Red John would he allow himself to be captured so easily? He wouldn't."

"Maybe he has such a high opinion of himself he thought he never could be. You said that yourself once. He doesn't know Partridge turned on him. And speaking of Partridge – what about the evidence he gave us that he's Red John? Patrick, I know you like mysteries trapped inside of mysteries but-"

"I don't care what Partridge led us to. McAllister is not Red John."

"You haven't even met him! How can you make such an assessment on seeing him for all of a minute on a tape?!"

"Calm down, woman, or you'll hurt yourself," he scolded her, glancing at her ribcage.

She rolled her eyes just as he jumped out of his chair with excitement. "Of course, that's it!" He grinned at her triumphantly. "Kinda obvious now, isn't it?"

As he dashed out of the office she squinted at the trail left by him. "What is? Where are you going?!"

He called to her, "Doing what you suggested, meeting him, of course! Come on!"

* * *

Jane burst through the doors to the interrogation room as Cho sat opposite McAllister. He smiled at the other man and went to shake his hand. "Patrick Jane, I've been looking forward to meeting you for quite some time-"

Jane's hand hung limply between them as McAllister's were shackled to the table. "Oh!" Jane chuckled, "Oopsy."

He dragged a chair beside him and sat down, his eyes circling Allister's face as he took hold of his closest wrist.

"What the hell!" McAllister exclaimed, trying to pull his hand away. "Who the hell is this, Cho?! What kinda show you people got going on around here?!"

Jane answered for his colleague, "Just as I suspected. You _don't_ know me, do you? You have no idea who I am."

Baffled, "Should I? Now stop touching me! Or I'll be adding police harassment to the charges when my lawyer gets here in addition to this defamation of my character and these wildly trumped up accusations."

Jane dropped his wrist and leant back in his chair. He turned his head towards Cho. "He doesn't know me. The man who murdered my wife's lover would, don't you think?"

Cho's stoic gaze cracked slightly. "What are you saying?"

Lisbon made her way into the room. Breathlessly, "Jane?-"

Jane shook his head at her slightly and instead of responding to either of his colleagues he turned back to McAllister. The humour dropped from his voice. "Tell me about Brett Partridge."

McAllister blinked rapidly. "W-Who?"

Jane chuckled, "Wow, never play poker, my friend. How well do you know him?"

The sheriff shrugged. "He's a forensic tech, right? Lab rat? Seen him around. I-I don't know him well. And what does all this have to do with him?"

"Because he's the reason you're here. He set you up. And very nicely, too. He played us all, actually. Well, I had my suspicions but the proof was proving quite overwhelming." Jane nodded to a file in front of Cho. "In that folder are at least a dozen documents that tie you to being Red John."

He leant forward and caught the other man's gaze as it froze in astonishment. "Now, you said you don't know him well. Well, what would make him want to do that to a virtual stranger? Care to share any thoughts on the matter?"

"I-I'm saying nothing until my lawyer gets here," he stammered.

Jane tilted his head to the side with a sigh. "That's your choice, of course. But it's the wrong one. The more you say nothing the more Partridge is singing like a bird." Jane chortled, "Excuse the pun."

McAllister frowned and looked at his hands, played with his fingertips. "Let me see this so called evidence," he said quietly.

Cho opened up the file silently and laid the pages on the table in front of the sheriff one by one.

McAllister studied them, his brow furrowing further as he read each sheet. "These are all...fabricated. I've never heard of these companies or been involved in any of this. It says here I can hack into the CBI's network? I can barely switch a computer on. Ask anyone."

"I'm not much of a fan of the digital age myself," Jane replied in an easygoing tone. "But it could be conceived that this rather lacklustre...persona of yours," Jane waved his hand casually in the direction of the Sheriff, "would make for an excellent front to conceal the very real identity of Red John. Who is most definitely tech and savvy and smart as a whip."

"Are you calling me dumb, young man?"

Jane opened his mouth, "Ah...well-"

"Tell us what you know about Partridge. Why would he try to set you up?" Lisbon interjected, interest now firmly piqued.

The older man sighed and let go of a breath. "Hell, okay. I...uh...I know him. Well, knew him, really. I've barely crossed paths with him in years. I was a friend of his late father many years ago. Well, not really a friend - he hired me as a guide for hunting trips when I was still finding my way in my younger days and needed some cash in the summertime. I know the woods in Napa like the back of my hand."

"Go on," Cho urged, the other man's face twisted in recollection.

He sat up straighter and spoke without catching anyone's eye. "His father brought young Brett with him on a few trips during one summer when he was...I dunno...seven, eight? Something like that."

McAllister laughed briefly. "He was a runty little kid, skinny and shy. Wore these big old glasses that were too big for his face. He even had a stutter back then."

"He enjoyed hunting, though, didn't he?" Jane pressed.

"Yeah...yeah...he did. I was surprised. He was a natural even though he sure didn't look the type. Looked like one of those that would puke when it came to the skinning part." He shook his head in admiration. "But he was into it. Concentrated, you know. He did some beautifully detailed work with a knife."

Jane's eyes flickered to Lisbon's as surprise then understanding encompassed her face. He nodded to her imperceptibly and she nodded back with a swallow, exiting the room quietly. She interpreted his message – discover if Partridge was still secured at the safe house.

McAllister droned on, barely recognising Lisbon had exited as he continued talking, in his own world now, "He was a good little hunter."

"You got close to him that summer," Jane said, "liked him, even. He reminded you of yourself at that age."

McAllister looked at him quizzically.

"Your own father didn't treat you very well, did he? Neither did Brett's. You saw a bit of yourself in him. Empathised."

"My relationship with my father has nothing to do with this." McAllister's raised his voice as he glared at Jane.

"My apologies," Jane said affably. "I didn't have a good relationship with my own father. Maybe I'm projecting. Guess you were luckier."

McAllister bristled and bit the inside of his cheek.

Jane prodded, "I'm right, though, about Brett, aren't I? His father didn't treat him very well, did he?"

McAllister shrugged. "Like you said, sons and fathers – it's complicated sometimes."

"His relationship was more complicated than most, wasn't it?"

The other man shrugged again. "I-I don't know. What the hell does all that matter anyway now? It was years ago."

"It matters very much." He tapped the paperwork that littered the desk. "Because it relates to all of this now."

Jane paused to allow that information to settle before he continued. "Brett confided in you, didn't he? He told you what his father was doing to him. He asked for your help."

He spoke louder, insistent. "And you did nothing, did you? A child asks for your help and you did nothing. You allow his father to continue the abuse instead. What did you do, huh? You ignore it? Or tell him to suck it up? Or tell him to stop crying over it? You tell him that pain as a child will only make him stronger and make him more of his own man ultimately? Well, he sure did get strong, didn't he?! He certainly did become his own man!"

No reaction gained apart from a gasp as he looked at his cuffs, Jane rose from his chair and grabbed a photo of a smiley face, pushed it in front of his face. McAllister kept looking down at his hands. "Look at this!" Jane demanded. "You helped him become this by doing nothing!"

McAllister drew his head back and shook his head, tears in his eyes. "Just stop, all right! His father was a powerful man! Who was going to believe me?! I was a nobody! How the hell was I supposed to know this would happen! I didn't know he'd become Red John!"

Jane sat down again and took a deep breath. He spoke more calmly. "You're right. You couldn't have. But aren't you sorry now that you didn't help him when you should have? All those murders...their blood is on your hands too."

* * *

"Partridge - he's still at the safe house," Lisbon said to Minelli as she hung up and they watched the interview unfold through the two-way mirror. "What happens now?"

Minelli puffed out a breath. "It's one man's word against the other. And right now the evidence lies squarely against McAllister. That's why Partridge hasn't fled."

"But he's Red John! That's obvious now. Even I can tell McAllister is telling the truth."

"I know. But Lisbon, we _have_ to follow the evidence wherever it takes us," Minelli supplied reluctantly. "Some of that paperwork in there has been around for years. He's been planning for this day for a long time." He paused, "One thing I don't get is why all that with Ryan, though? Why set him up? Any ideas? He came to you with that evidence and set himself up as one of Red John's men by doing so. Doing nothing he could have continued to get away with this for years."

"To _make_ us look at him more closely. He wanted that attention and what better way than to point the finger of suspicion at my boyfriend? He knew I wouldn't buy it."

"But he also wanted Ryan to plead guilty to being Red John and be charged accordingly. I don't understand that ploy if all he wanted was attention."

Jane strolled in and answered Minelli, "Perhaps that was his initial plan. To make Ryan go down for this and stay in the shadows for some more time. Save McAllister's fate for another day when he'd come back and kill again as Red John when he was satisfied the CBI was irreparably damaged. Destroy your reputation and Teresa's in the process as Ryan rots in prison. He must be aware of the work you've been doing to infiltrate his organisation. He had to put a stop to it by making you two look, at best, incompetent.

But he had to adjust when we removed Ryan from the equation and so he decided to move on to his ultimate plan instead – the framing of McAllister. Then, once he is imprisoned - and most likely murdered in prison by one of his people - Red John would emerge once again and the CBI's reputation will be ruined forever as they not only arrested not one but two innocent men as Red John."

Lisbon chipped in, "We wouldn't have believed just anyone if they told us McAllister was Red John. Evidence or not. He knew we'd only believe someone from his inner circle who was desperate for a deal to stay alive. It adds to credibility in front of a jury. Evidence alone might not have been enough to get a conviction. Courtrooms like drama and eye witness testimony. Stands to reason he'd be able to put on a show of being terrified and convince a jury of him being a recalcitrant witness if he's been able to fool us all these years about who he really is."

She scoffed. "It's kinda brilliant. Risky but clever. Even if McAllister refutes what he says on the stand it would appear like just any other murderer trying to escape the noose by blaming the witness."

Minelli added, "Plus he wants McAllister to know that he was the one who set him up. He wanted us to get interested in him so he could lead us wherever he decided to take us. So he could frame his old confidante. He didn't care if his work was under scrutiny. That was the entire point of the exercise."

Lisbon chipped in, "And killing Pat...that really put the spotlight onto him. He wanted us to bring him in and to make it look like he was being pressed into giving up McAllister. Plus he gets some retribution for us making him change his initial plan at the same time by killing her. He came quietly, remember? Looking back, that was the red flag. If he'd been truly worried he'd have ran before he could have been picked up. Instead he stayed and made it look like he was the one doing us a favour. And we lapped it right up."

Jane nodded. "The talent of a true magician. Have the audience look one way to stop them looking at what's in your other hand. Pretend to drop a card when what you're really doing is stacking the other fifty-one cards in the deck with the other hand."

Lisbon nodded, "Point a finger at someone else to stop being looked at yourself. It's quite masterful, really."

"Masterful it may be but how the hell do we prove any of it?" Minelli responded.

Jane spoke. "He's still at the safe house, I presume?"

"Yeah," Lisbon replied, "living it up over there by all accounts."

"Why wouldn't he? He's going to put the man in prison he's been wanting to all these years."

"He has to know McAllister would talk to us and confess what he knows when he was arrested."

"Of course. Precisely what he wants. He wants us to know that he's Red John and that we don't have one ounce of proof against him. He wins. Gets immunity and a new life to pretend to be someone else all over again."

She shook her head. "This is...so wrong. McAllister is no saint but this is wrong."

The three of them looked at each other in abject silence. Then Jane clicked on his tongue. Cheerfully, "So then let's make it right, shall we?"


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N:** **Thank you for your patience. I promise we're almost there. And thanks to everyone who read and commented on the last chapter of this one and on the first chapter of my new** **multichapter** **Deception II. So pleased so many of you are happy to see that little universe resurrected as I am.**

* * *

Chapter 38 - Preparation

Jane and Lisbon strolled into the television studio and he took a second to view the set. Seating for the studio audience was stacked high and close together to give the illusion of a large and excited gathering from various camera angles. Now it lay empty and dormant and looked more like a cinema when the movie had ended, missing only the aroma of stale popcorn. A cream couch and soothing pastel backdrop opposite were draped in bright lights and Karen Cross' name depicted in large serious black letters in what Jane considered a rather weak attempt to add some gravitas to proceedings.

It appeared they were just in time to catch a rehearsal. He was reminded of his last appearance on a show much like this one and he sighed heavily. Guilt settled on him that Melissa had paid the price for his hubris that night. And that he had met Teresa Lisbon again because of it. One horrendous event had led him back to the only woman he'd ever loved. It was more than uncomfortable dwelling on that particular course of events so he was relieved when he saw the lithe figure of Cross make her way across to the couch armed with a stack of papers and allowed him a distraction to his musings.

"Karen!" he called as he stepped towards her quickly. He shot her a grin. "We meet at last!"

She eyed him with suspicion and showed no sign she was either charmed or disarmed by his most effective weapon. "I'm sorry? Who are you and what are you doing in my studio?"

He recovered quickly from his mild surprise of having no visible effect on her and held out his hand. "Patrick Jane, CBI."

A frown was soon replaced by recognition of the name and she studied him slowly. "Oh, I know you!" she said with a short nod. "You're the psychic they hired, aren't you?" She glanced at Lisbon, "And you're Teresa Lisbon. I've been attempting to talk to you, Agent Lisbon. Left you message upon message for days now."

"Well, I'm here now!" Lisbon supplied with slight nervousness and an awkward smile.

"And just to be clear, there are no such things as psychics, Karen," Jane answered.

"That's not what you were saying just a few months ago. You were exposing your unique skill set to anyone who would listen." She smirked as she regarded the front of his pants, "And exposing everything else too if the rumours I've heard about you and production assistants are correct."

Jane shifted uncomfortably on his toes. This woman was formidable. "Well, that was a long time ago. I'm a changed man now, Karen, I assure you."

"Hm. Because your wife was brutally murdered, you mean?"

He went to speak and she interrupted him as she tapped a finger to her lips, "You know you're quite the photogenic one. I could work on a piece around you. The repentant cheating husband seeking redemption for his past indiscretions by working in Law Enforcement now – could be profitable for both of us."

He held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Karen, we came here to give you a much bigger story than discussing my own rather sad past existence." He sighed and turned, "But if all you're interested in is gutter journalism then maybe we came to the wrong person. Agent Lisbon, shall we-"

"Wait! What have you got?" She stared at both of them again then focused on Lisbon. "I've been stonewalled by your organisation on the Red John case. And I'm not interested in a publicity stunt for the CBI where you people tell us all what a grand job you're doing over there when I know that's not true. You screwed up with Ryan Hastings for one-"

Jane faced her again and tilted his head to the side with a smile. "You don't think you're capable of steering any interview in any direction you want? Not up to the job?"

"Well...yes, of course, I am...but-"

"So then what does it matter what the CBI's agenda is? You have your own."

"And why would you want to encourage that, Mr Jane, if you work for them may I ask?"

Lisbon shot Jane a well-practiced glare. "He wouldn't."

"And why are you here, Agent Lisbon? You, of all people, considering your relationship with Hastings-"

Now it was Lisbon's turn to look to her toes before she straightened up again to address Cross. "That's exactly why I am here, Karen. I want the truth about Ryan to be told." She swiped a nonexistent tear from her cheek. Sadly, "He deserved better." She spoke softly to the other woman. "No more stonewalling, I promise. You'll get the truth. And an exclusive."

Cross hummed in consideration. " _You_ will be interviewed, Agent Lisbon?"

Lisbon blushed and swallowed thickly. She whispered, "Ah, yes, I-I volunteered. But the interview needs to be aired live this evening. Time is of the utmost importance."

"Well, that's a big ask. I already have a show taped and ready to air tonight."

"This will provide you with better ratings, I promise."

"Hm. I'm interested, of course." She paused as she gave Lisbon a once over. "But you might come across as a little...weak...you know, quiet. And that would be fine if this was going to be pre-recorded. We could do a few takes to get it right. Work around it. But I can't risk dead air. Nerves might get the better of you. I need some dynamism for my show, you understand. Someone who can _pop_ on screen."

Lisbon played her part of a timid mouse and looked to the ground again, all the while controlling her urge to land a punch on the reporter opposite and show her what _pop_ she was capable of providing - whatever the hell that meant.

Jane sighed audibly. He sympathised, "She's right you know, Teresa. Not everyone is made to face the cameras. Especially not live."

"You are, though, aren't you, Mr Jane?" Cross said to him.

He smiled and mock blushed. "Aw, you flatter me, Karen. And call me Patrick, please."

"He's not authorised to speak on behalf of the CBI," Lisbon said. "He's just here because we're on our way back from a crime scene," she lied.

"I probably won't have to," Jane told Lisbon as softly as they'd rehearsed it, "I'll just be there at your side should you get tongue-tied, my dear."

Cross studied them both closely, noticing how affectionately he stared at her. "Hang on, are you two-?"

"Just colleagues," Lisbon answered immediately whereas Jane responded with an enigmatic smile.

This was like catching fish in a barrel. Karen Cross would go to any lengths to ensure they both appeared live on television that evening.

* * *

"Mr Jane, is it?" J.J. LaRoche ambled to the occupant of the brown leather couch sitting in the bullpen that held Haffner's team. "You've been avoiding me."

Jane made a show of yawning loudly and opened his eyes blearily. "Hm?" He looked the other man up and down lazily and held back a retort that he'd actually been waiting for the Professional Standard's agent for over a half hour already. "You'll have to tell me who you are first so I can confirm or deny that, I'm afraid."

LaRoche raised an eyebrow slowly. "Agent LaRoche-"

"Interesting surname. French derivation, isn't it?"

The large agent frowned, "I believe so-"

"Are you Canadian?"

"No."

"Oh. Just wondered. More likely with that name, though, wouldn't you agree?"

LaRoche sighed wearily. "I need to talk to you about the murder of Ryan Hastings, Mr Jane. You were one of the last people to see him alive and you've been avoiding me."

Jane tutted and sighed. "Hm." Then he jumped off the couch quickly. "Let's do it over some tea then, shall we?"

"I don't drink tea. And I don't have time-"

Jane beamed at him. "Really? Well, that's a shame. Perhaps you've never had a properly prepared cup of it before. Come on, let me change your life, Agent LaRoche."

As Jane sprinted towards the break room LaRoche looked to the heavens as he followed behind.

* * *

Jane passed a cup of tea to LaRoche and looked at him expectantly as they sat at a table in Haffner's empty office.

Solemnly, "Mr Jane, I need to ask you-"

Jane glanced at the cup facing LaRoche like an exuberantly expectant golden retriever. "Tea first."

LaRoche breathed loudly in irritation and took a sip. "Thank you. Very nice," he said without interest.

"See? It all comes down to the quality of the leaves-"

"Mr Jane, this is a serious matter. I do not have time for your...flimflam act today."

Amused, "Flimflam?"

"Your reputation precedes you, I assure you."

Jane leant back in his chair and drank from his cup as he contemplated the man opposite. He had to trust LaRoche was not one of Red John's people and had been assigned by Minelli to discover that truth. Trusted agents would be needed in the coming days when Lisbon and Jane's plan was brought to fruition. Also, it was important that Jane was not stymied in the next few hours by the famously dogged agent and was allowed to roam freely both within the CBI and outside its walls.

Luckily, Jane was immediately rather drawn to him, he was pleased to report, and saw only a rapacious appetite for the truth in his lumbering demeanour.

LaRoche opened a notepad before him. "Now, shall we begin?"

Jane placed his cup back on the saucer. The mocking smile vanished from his lips. "I think this might take a while. So yes," he replied gravely.

* * *

"Brenda?"

Lisbon popped her head in Shettrick's office.

The redhead looked over her glasses and rose from her desk. "Teresa? I didn't think we had an appointment today. In fact, I didn't even know you were back at work. Weren't you just in some kind of an accident?"

"Yeah, sorry," Lisbon said, strolling in with a shrug. "I'm fine. Minelli asked me to give you the heads up as he's had to go into an urgent meeting with the AG. There's been a break in the Red John case. An actual one, this time."

Shettrick drew her head back. "Oh? How so?"

Lisbon smiled inwardly. She had to give it to her, Shettrick was playing a blinder at obfuscation. Although it may also have been the case that Shettrick was in the dark to Partridge's motivation and intent. However, what was apparent was that the woman opposite would make an attempt to feed back to Partridge whatever was told to her if she could. It may not be required if he took the bait waiting to be served to him later but backup confirmation from his favourite informer would hold weight and might just be the clincher to catch him.

Lisbon leant in conspiratorially. "Sheriff Thomas McAllister from Napa. He's Red John."

"Oh my god! Really?! I can't believe it."

Lisbon replied honestly. "Hard to believe, huh? Couldn't agree more."

Lisbon spoke again with more confidence. "Anyway, just in case there's a leak around here I wanted to give you the heads up first so you could be prepared for any press attention you might receive. And, speaking of that subject, I need your help."

"Help with what? And when will the news of McAllister's arrest be released?"

Lisbon huffed in annoyance and prayed she wasn't going overboard in her reaction. Jane had told her to avoid large expressions of any emotion to make her performance more believable but she might just have screwed up. Luckily, she was pretty certain Shettrick was as sharp as a marble so she continued unabated, "Tonight with any luck. But after the screw up with Ryan, we want to make sure that this will stick. We can't risk him getting off or make it look like we don't know what the hell we're doing around here. There's been enough bad publicity already, wouldn't you agree? So we're crossing all _T's_ and dotting all _I's-_ "

Lisbon's cell chirruped and she rolled her eyes right on cue as she looked at Shettrick. "Sorry, excuse me for a second-"

Jane's voice purred over the line, a teasing light lilt to his tone. "Well, how goes it, Meryl?"

She held back a smile and kept her voice even. "Hey, Boss. Yeah, I've just told her - WHAT?!"

Jane's laugh echoed in her ear. "Okay, take it down a notch, my dear. You're not a ham."

She took a second to breathe and made a mental note to extract some punishment later for almost making her crack up under Shettrick's stare.

She responded as they'd discussed. "But what about the DNA? Yes, yes, of course," she replied earnestly into the receiver. She put on a show of looking disappointed and shrugged to the woman who was watching her avidly, "Yes, I'm with her now and will let her know. When will the AG decide?" She hung on the line for a few more seconds.

Jane said, "Okay, that's good. You know what to do now. See you soon."

When the line went dead she said to Shettrick, "Anyway, about what I was saying...although damn it this is going to make it a lot more difficult now. As I said before, I'm hoping you can help me prepare-"

"What is more difficult now? And prepare for what precisely? And...DNA?"

Lisbon appeared distracted and shrugged. The truth was that results of the DNA tests on what, if anything, was found on Pat's palm were still outstanding but there was no requirement for Shettrick or anyone else to know that. A bluff would work in their favour just as well.

"Some new evidence we've found from Pat's murder scene. We're still waiting for it to be processed in its entirety but preliminary results fit McAllister in general terms. That, along with what else we have on him, well, it was assumed we had enough to facilitate a quick prosecution."

She exhaled in irritation. "But the AG isn't happy with the current evidence as it stands. We need to find more and also wait until we have actual confirmation from that sample. We're going to conduct a search of McAllister's property once the warrant comes through. Hopefully, that will be completed by tomorrow and I pray to God we'll find more to implicate him. But Minelli jumped the gun already – I think between us he's been getting some pressure from the higher ups and the press for a result after this whole Ryan debacle – and he asked me to speak to the TV journalist Karen Cross this morning to set something up with her. She's been calling him for days now without let up so he gave in and agreed eventually. I'm going to be interviewed on her show this evening. Live."

"Live?!"

"Yeah, afraid so. She wouldn't settle for a pre-recorded piece and, well...Minelli thought this was all tied up this morning. But now if I tell her I need to postpone she's going to come at us harder and air whatever her perception is currently. And from speaking with her believe me it is not good. Plus she'll only become more suspicious. But in light of the AG's comments, I won't be able to name McAllister now as I thought I could so we'll have to work on what I _can_ say to her now."

"Hang on...what?! Minelli should know all interview requests flow through me. If anyone should be appearing on that show it's me-"

"Hey, I wish you were. Believe me. I'm just following orders. Minelli was adamant he wanted the Red John lead detective on that show tonight, what can I say?" She asked innocently, "You two have a falling out? You say something that might have annoyed him and made him push you out?"

Shettrick bristled, "Even if I had I would have thought he would have been more professional than employing an...amateur like this. No offence, Teresa, but do you really think you should be front of a camera? You haven't had much experience in the spotlight."

Lisbon ignored her patronising tone, "Guess I'll get some tonight. And you _can_ help me with the preparation, can't you? Make sure I don't fall flat on my face."

"Well, yes, of course, I can."

"Great! Okay if I drop back again in a couple of hours and you can walk me through any grenades she might throw at me?"

Shettrick smiled at her sweetly. "Of course, Teresa."

"You're the best," Lisbon replied cheerfully.

When she turned to leave the smile turned into a smirk.

The game was on.

* * *

"Sorry," Jane supplied calmly with a smile, putting his cell away. "Had to make an important and somewhat timely phone call. Now, where were we?"

"You just told me that Ryan Hastings is alive." LaRoche gaped at Jane, unaccustomed to being lost for words and on the back foot with anyone. He squinted at Jane. "And I'm trying to decide whether this is your attempt at humour or this is merely some type of fabrication to stop me from finding the actual truth, Mr Jane. And you should know I am not in the mood for either," he groused.

"No joke and no trick. And call me Patrick, J.J. He's alive and safe. Paradoxically, we had to _kill_ him to keep it that way. To stop Red John or one of his cohorts from doing exactly that. But Red John doesn't know that."

"I am aware that there are rumours circulating around this building that Sheriff McAllister has been brought in for questioning in relation to the Red John case-"

"Ah! Well now you mention _him_ , that's something else I need to discuss with you."

Jane grinned from behind his earl grey. "Like I said, we have quite the bit to talk about, my new friend. Buckle up."

* * *

Brett Partridge stood up quickly from an armchair situated in the living area of the apartment complex he was holed up in as a knock came to the door. Two CBI agents sat on the couch opposite him and readied their weapons. Upon seeing Minelli enter they relaxed their posture and nodded to the agent in charge.

"Give us a moment, agents," Minelli muttered authoritatively.

One of them - the smaller of the two named Shaw - regarded Partridge closely. He shot him an infinitesimal nod in response. Just as Minelli suspected (as he had vocalised his interest in joining Partridge's security detail) Shaw was part of his organisation and knew he needed to proceed with caution. "Please, sit," he said to Partridge when they were alone as he sat on the couch.

"Agent Minelli," Partridge said breathlessly, "you-you have news?"

He was still playing his persona to perfection of nervous lab rat in too deep. Still rehearsing for his performance on the stand. Any fluctuation at this stage that could be asserted by Minelli would play against him in court.

Minelli narrowed his eyes at him, the urge to take out his service weapon and end him all too tempting. And he wouldn't get the other names of those in his organisation if he gave in to the temptation. He cleared his throat. "We have McAllister in custody. Of course, he's playing the victim of the piece. Saying that you are the one who is setting him up. Says that you are Red John."

Partridge gasped. "What?! Why?!"

Minelli scoffed, "Oh, who knows why he wouldn't be drawn on the matter. He says he'll only speak with his lawyer about it. I wouldn't worry. He's just trying to save his own pitiful murdering ass. Just thought I'd pop in and let you know." He nodded to the junior agents that were assembled around the front door. "In the meantime, though, I want to ensure that you have the best protection available. He has friends in law enforcement as you no doubt know, and now that he's been captured the stakes are higher than before. I want my best people on the job keeping you safe. I don't need to tell you how crucial your safety is to me."

Partridge looked genuinely flustered. "Oh, I'm fine here, really. And happy with the agents supplied. I'm sure I'm safe here, sir."

"That's as may be but I'm not willing to take the risk. Agents Cho and Rigsby will be taking over the shift from this evening. They're the best I've got and you'll thank me in the end, I assure you."

With that, he rose from the couch and nodded to the other man before he had a chance to respond. "All right, better go. Good talk."

"Agent-"

"No need to thank me!" Minelli said as he made it to the front door. He turned quickly and sighed. "Oh, sorry, forgot to say...tune in to the Karen Cross show tonight, you might find it interesting."

"The TV journalist, why?"

"Hm. Journalist in the loosest sense if you ask me but...well, we need some good press so she'll be covering the developments in the Red John case tonight live on air. Thankfully we can give her some good news, huh?"

"You'll be releasing McAllister's name?"

"Sadly not as the AG isn't yet convinced on the evidence-"

"What?"

Minelli waved him off. "Don't worry about it. A few matters including something about the tapes you gave us not actually showing us that McAllister is Red John...he's just being overly cautious if you ask me. But Patrick Jane is convinced more evidence will be found at his property once we're done searching it. He's usually right in these matters. Anyway, you might want to tune in later."

* * *

"You really think this is gonna work?" Lisbon said to Jane, her fingers smoothing down the cloth of her jacket as her eyes wandered around the television studio they stood in later that evening.

"Piece of cake," he replied assuredly, bouncing on his toes, hands in his pockets.

"Easy for you to say. I've never been on television before."

Softly, "Well, my last appearance didn't exactly make me want to make a return either."

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I wasn't thinking-"

"It's fine," he replied with a smile and a deep breath. He stared into her eyes. "Just keep to the script that we practised and you'll do great."

"I think I'm going to throw up," she muttered as Karen Cross entered the studio and gestured for them to take a seat on a couch beside her chair as the lights came on and cameras whirred into place. The studio audience tittered in anticipation.

"Perfectly natural to have pre show jitters. Just breathe and follow my lead."

He took a step forward from behind the camera with a wink back at her, "Here we go. Show time."


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: Apologies for the long delay in finally providing an update to this story. I won't bore you with the details but I am finally ready to get back to this sucker and finish it in the coming weeks. Thank you to everyone still reading & especially those who take the time to review.**

* * *

Chapter 39 – The Set-Up

Cho and Rigsby took positions at the breakfast counter in the kitchen and sipped coffee as they watched Patridge tune into The Karen Cross Show on television that faced the the couch. Since they'd arrived, conversation had been less than scintillating with Partridge regarding them both warily, snake like eyes trailing them as they'd checked windows and rooms periodically. He'd welcomed them with enthusiasm to begin with but by now, two hours later, his act had waned to the affectation of a nervous odd smile and nod in their direction. His attention finally rapt with the sunny music playing on the screen Rigsby whispered to Cho, "Hope to god this works. Or we're dead meat, man."

"Just stick to the plan," Cho nodded gravely.

"Yeah." Rigsby threw a backwards glance at Partridge. "I'm more concerned with _him_ doing what he's supposed to do, not us. What if he doesn't?"

His slightly raised voice drew a glance from the man on the couch. "Problem, gentlemen?"

Rigsby feigned a good natured smile. "Nah, we're all good." He nodded to the television as Cross appeared on screen. "Looks like the show's starting, eh?"

As Partridge turned towards the television again Rigsby shook his head at Cho. Quietly, "Never a truer word spoken, huh?"

* * *

Cross stood up to greet Lisbon and Jane as they walked towards the sofa set on her stage, shaking their hands warmly with her best hungry smile. She reminded Lisbon of a shark all set to swallow its own catch of the day.

"Agent Lisbon, from the CBI, welcome at last!" she enthused. "You've been playing hard to get!"

She grinned at the audience who clapped right on cue as an intern lazily held up a sign with 'Applause' scrawled across it, chewing gum as his other hand was grasped to his phone (most likely looking for another job, Jane supposed. He guessed this role wasn't exactly what this twenty-something had in mind when he went to study Media Relations). As the consultant sat against the couch with one leg graciously crossed over the other, Lisbon, on the other hand, sat uncomfortably at the edge of its edge, every instinct in her body fighting against the 'flight' response as the cameras zoomed in on her.

"Karen," Lisbon squeaked, rolling her eyes at herself before she swallowed thickly in an attempt to moisten her throat.

Jane fetched a pitcher of water from his side and poured a glass from it, passing it to Lisbon silently, his pose relaxed as he smiled at his host. "Karen, pleasure to be here with you this lovely evening," he said smoothly.

"Yes, Mr Jane, I was just getting to you," she said with a smidgen of irritation.

"Sorry," Jane offered. "Please go ahead and introduce me."

She flustered, "Well..."

Jane beamed a smile at the audience. "Folks, what Karen was about to say is that I'm Patrick Jane. And that I'm psychic, most probably. Some of you may have even heard of me."

A few titters in the audience and a squeal from a middle aged woman in the front row followed.

Jane winked in her direction. "You flatter me, young lady," he responded with an eager glint in his eye. The woman flushed redder, her hot flashes and Jane's keen eye a recipe for menopausal disaster that made her withdraw a fan from her handbag.

Karen attempted to take back control of the show. "Mr Jane, do you mind-?"

"Not at all, Karen, where were we?" he replied innocently. His segue had given Lisbon time to collect herself under the scrutiny of the audience and the harsh glare of the lights so much she managed a small smirk.

Karen glared at Jane. "Yes, Mr Jane, like you said you do purport to be a psychic. Tell me, was it your wife's brutal-?"

"No."

Confused, "No?"

"No. I just said that you would introduce me as a psychic. I didn't say that I actually _was_ one."

"So now you're stating that you're not psychic after all these years-?"

"Yes."

"Yes? Yes you are one or no you're now saying you're not."

Jane left a moment of silence before he grinned enigmatically. "Is this really what you want to spend your time on, Karen? I don't mind at all but I thought you were here to get the inside scoop on Red John from Agent Lisbon here." He looked at his watch. "And since we're live..."

Cross rolled her eyes, the producer in her ear telling her to move it along also. She exhaled in annoyance and focused on Lisbon, smoothing her bright blue dress over her knees to expel her annoyance as she turned to speak to the agent. "Fair enough, Mr Jane." She shot him a look of victory as she pounced on his girlfriend. "Agent Lisbon. You have worked for the California Bureau of Investigation now for some time. Correct?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"And so you have to admit that the catalogue of disasters in catching the notorious serial killer Red John lies firmly at your door, do you not?"

Lisbon appeared to ponder the question. "Well, I wouldn't say-"

"You wouldn't? Well, wasn't your own boyfriend-"

"My boyfriend was murdered," Lisbon stated firmly. "He was an innocent man. And I'll do everything in my power to get justice for him."

"That all sounds very passionate and riveting, Agent Lisbon. We're supposed to take you at your word on that, are we?"

"That's a bit harsh, isn't it, Karen?" Jane piped up. "Agent Lisbon is grieving, currently, after all."

"Grieving,huh? Well, of course, I am sorry for her loss if Mr Hastings was indeed an innocent but no, I wouldn't say it is too harsh, Mr Jane," Cross responded eagerly. "We need answers. And can you please allow Agent Lisbon to speak for herself?! Just because you and she are now-"

"We are here to speak about Red John, Karen," Lisbon interjected loudly. "I've come here to assure the public that we have made significant progress in that investigation."

Cross responded, "Which is?"

"We have a person of interest in custody we are confident _is_ Red John."

A smattering of interest from the audience followed her revelation.

Cross was not as easily impressed. "Really? So you are in a position to name him at this time?"

Lisbon licked her lips. "I-I'm not in a position to state exactly who he is-"

"Well, Agent Lisbon, this is the second time in a number of weeks where we've heard this _rumour_. You'll have to excuse my scepticism on the matter. The public is owed more, don't you think? You work for _us,_ don't you, as a _public_ servant?"

As Lisbon wavered, her blush increasing as her mouth opened and closed like a goldfish Jane spoke up.

"Oh, come on, Lisbon," he sighed with an exaggerated eye roll. "You have to give her more than _that_ old tired line. I'm not exactly a fan of Ms Cross' love of torrid headline grabbing misinformed reporting personally but we're here to make an announcement, aren't we? What's the point in being here at all if all we give her is a half truth?"

Cross nodded then shook her head. "Thank you, Mr Jane. Hang on, what did you say?-"

Lisbon snapped her head to glare at him. " _Mr_ Jane, would you mind-"

Cross ate up the apparent discord between the pair with a spoon. "He's right, Agent Lisbon. Mr Jane, you have an inside line to this investigation, quite obviously. You _must_ have more to add. Please, don't be afraid, this is your right as a citizen to keep us informed. It's your duty, in fact."

"Jane," Lisbon warned.

Jane looked between the two women, adding a lengthy pause and a torn expression to increase anticipation. The audience leaned forward in silence, practically salivating at the anticipated announcement from the rogue consultant. _I have missed this_ , Jane mused inwardly. _That addictive feeling of having the audience in the palm of my hand._ He glanced at Lisbon out of the corner of his eye. _But being with her is better than any of that_ , his heart told him. _It always has been since the day I met her._

He cleared his throat to turn his reflection back to his current role. He looked softly at Lisbon. "I'm sorry but I need to do this, Teresa. The people watching deserve the truth." He nodded to Karen seriously. "I cannot name the man in custody – to do so would do him an injustice of a fair trial and may also perhaps lead to his acquittal - but I can tell you that we are confident DNA evidence has been found that will lead to his conviction."

Cross' shoulders slumped. "Hm. Just _how_ confident are you?"

"His last victim, Pat Holland. She was a coroner as you're probably aware so skilled in the capture of DNA evidence. Well, she was able to retrieve his DNA while he tortured her to death. First time he made a mistake like that so it's quite something."

"Really? And it has been matched to the man you have in custody?"

Jane hummed, "Well, no, not quite yet. I'm no scientist and there are further tests to be concluded, apparently. But preliminary results show a match to a Caucasian male of North American descent. Those results are in line with the man we have in custody." Before she interrupted he smiled smoothly, "Now, I know you're going to say that _that_ matches a great many million of people but that's not what matters. We have someone we are confident will match that sample once all testing has been carried out on it in the coming day or two."

"I see. You had this man in custody before this sample was tested? So you already had some evidence he is Red John before it?"

"Precisely. See, we also have a sworn statement from one of his followers along with videotape evidence-"

"Jane," Lisbon cut in, right on cue. "That's enough. We can't trial this man on television like this."

"You don't think it's important to mention the tape we have, Lisbon? I mean, it's securely locked up, isn't it, what's the harm?"

"Of course it is. But no, I don't. That tape will be viewed at trial. We shouldn't talk about that video before then." Lisbon turned her attention to Cross. Irritated, "Please excuse my colleague, Karen. He does not speak for the CBI in any professional capacity."

"But this tape Mr Jane mentions-"

"I won't discuss the tape, Karen." She looked pointedly at Jane. "And Mr Jane will no longer mention the video or any others that may be found upon further inspection either."

Jane made a locking sign on his lips. "Guess I'm keeping anything else I have to say on the matter in the vault as they say, as it were. Sorry, Karen."

Lisbon rose from the couch and glowered at Jane. "We're so _done_ here." She pulled off her microphone and stomped off the stage.

Jane made a face as he shrugged to Karen. "Oopsy. Better go after her."

Karen Cross gaped, "But we're-we're in the middle of a recording-"

"Sorry, Karen, duty calls," he smiled, "it was a pleasure meeting you and chatting, though." As he bent down to kiss her cheek he whispered in her ear, "Put a rerun on or something to fill the time. I promise I'll be in touch with the best exclusive of your life very soon if you do."

* * *

As they made their way to the car Lisbon exhaled loudly. "Well, that was just about the most embarrassing thing I've ever done in my whole life."

"Really?" he smirked, "You really haven't lived much in the time we've been apart, have you, my dear?"

"You think it worked?"

Jane placed a hand on the small of her back as he caught up with her. "Certainly performed enough to get his attention. We did our part. He just has to take the bait. Good news about the DNA evidence, huh?"

"How do you mean? We didn't _find_ any DNA. Or at least not enough to give us any kind of an ID on anyone. There _are_ no further tests. We discovered that right before we went on air if you recall."

"Well, we know that but Partridge doesn't. Still ingenious to use it as a bluff into making him react, don't you think? He thinks his game is up soon so he'll need to move quickly."

"God, I hope you're right. Just hope he does what you think he will next."

"Well, we dropped enough suggestions on how he should react into our conversation just now. I doubt he'll be able to leave town without his most prized possession."

* * *

Minelli called Lisbon as they got back to the SUV. "Tell Jane he's a ham," he started. "But well done to you both, I suppose."

She smiled as she put him on loudspeaker, "Just tell me I never have to appear on television ever _ever_ again."

He harrumphed a laugh back. "If you ever want to sit in my seat it comes with the job, I'm afraid. But anyway, Jane confident he'll go after his tapes?"

"Around 70 per cent, Virgil," he responded. "You mentioned the search for more video evidence earlier when you spoke to him, correct?"

"Yes, like you suggested. You really think those damn videos will be worth that much to him? That he'll risk his escape just so he can retrieve them?"

Jane nodded. "Absolutely. Knew it when all he would give us as evidence to implicate McAllister was the first few frames of one of them. Knew there had to be more, much more footage that he would have recorded. Red John doesn't take from his kills. At least nothing that physically belongs to them. But he's a serial killer, be unusual for him not to take _somethin_ g so he can relive the moment of every kill time and time again. My feeling is that he'd have to take a trophy of some kind. Only possibility based on what he gave us before is of further videos of him killing these women instead. But they're _his_ trophies – only meant for _his_ eyes. He didn't want to share them even if it meant firmly framing McAllister. Well, either that or he speaks on them and gives himself up in the process, nails himself instead of his target. Upshot is he wants them for himself. Now we've all planted the suggestion of videos, tapes, vaults, safes, etc. all during today he'll feel even _more_ strongly that he needs them before he vanishes. And not just because he needs them but also because he doesn't want _anyone_ else to view them but him."

"Is LaRoche with Shettrick?" Lisbon asked. "Partridge will likely want to confirm with her that all we've said is true."

"Yes, he took her into custody quietly before the airing. As you suspected she's willing to deal and tell Partridge exactly what we want her to if and when he calls."

"Of course she is," Jane smiled.

"We could just arrest him now," Lisbon stated. "With her testimony and what she knows about him-"

"Getting our hands on those tapes will be better. And on his person better still," Minelli commented. "I'd rather have hard evidence than base charges on someone else's say so. Especially one of his people-"

"Who he might arrange to have disposed of while he's awaiting trial," Lisbon finished for him. "Yeah, you're right."

* * *

"Jeez, Lisbon is going to kill him," Rigsby sniggered as he and Cho stood behind the couch Partridge sat on after the first section of The Karen Cross show had abruptly ended. "What the hell was Jane thinking going off like that on televison?"

"Is it true?" Partridge said solemnly, turning around to face the two agents. "About the DNA evidence?"

Cho and Rigsby looked at each other and shrugged in unison. Rigsby said, "Well, yeah. But we wanted to keep it under wraps, you know. Keep it safe until we're able to fully ID McAllister from it." Cho said, "Don't worry about it. It'll stack up along with your testimony so he won't be able to wriggle out of this so easily or turn the blame back on you. It's a good thing."

"Right," Partridge replied, less than enthusiastically.

As he went back to watching television distractedly Cho and Rigsby raised eyebrows to each other in a silent toast.

The plan was working.

Now to Phase 2 where the small matter of being murdered by Red John awaited them.


End file.
